


Meeting You.

by LunaLacrimosa



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Vergil (Devil May Cry), Canon-Typical Violence, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Dark, Demon Sex, Demons, Explicit Sexual Content, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Tension, Top Dante (Devil May Cry), Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:20:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22777816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaLacrimosa/pseuds/LunaLacrimosa
Summary: Separated at birth, Dante and Vergil grew up vastly different. One demonic. One human.Alternatively: Vergil is raised by an overprotective Nero and has zero knowledge of his demonic heritage.Until he meets his apparent twin, Dante. After the whirlwind of red crashes into his life, Verge's life is changed forevermore.
Relationships: Dante/Vergil (Devil May Cry), Nero/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 46
Kudos: 155





	1. Vergil

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! :3 My first fanfic of the series! I wanted to do a story where Nero was the parent! Haha! Join Overprotective Nero as he tries to keep Vergil pure and sweet, while kicking some ass!
> 
> Please leave comments!

The damp air was still and the flame barely flickered. It was steady enough to relieve the darkness of the otherwise draft room, but not enough to read with. A lone book was casted out by shadows, as if hands were gradually branching out towards the piece of literature. The wick of the candela grew sperse as it cradled the angular features of a scowl.

The man’s features were sharp, yet the man’s pale skin appeared a peach-like color from the luminous candle’s flame. Short, spiked silver hair softly sat on top of his head, and his sapphire eyes coldly turned to near black from the lack of light. Pupils became quite undetectable. Their hardened glare bore through the very being that stood before him. The silver-haired male grunted his displeasure as he fiddled with his dark jacket.

“Nero...” A surprisingly pleasant voice called out across from the other end of the table. A growl could be heard from Nero, and the other man took the hint to continue. “I know this is not the ideal situation, but please-”

“Please?” Nero interrupted bluntly, the atmosphere of the room increasingly growing gloomy at an alarming rate, ”you’re fucking asking me to take one of your sons and live in the Earth realm, and endanger tons of millons of innocents?!” Nero raised his voice, and pointed his finger at the other. “Listen here, I cannot believe you let M-” he shook his head with a resigned sigh, “that damn bastard win!” His orbs of blue icily bore through the very core of the infamous Sparda.

Sparda frowned as he held his two infants sons to his chest. The noble demonic knight attempted to adjust his spectacle as he shifted the two babies carefully to not ajar them. “You really should reconsider your foul language there, boy.” he said sternly. “And no. Mundus did not win. Eva was killed. My beloved.. Gone…” his tone trailed off in a hushed, unforgetful tone. A kind of whisper that someone who was strength itself should never use. One Nero will never forget. He wordlessly watched the powerful knight mourn over his deceased wife, and Sparda’s eyes solemnly gazed down at his sleeping sons. The only things he had left as a reminder of his love life with Eva. After a long pregnant silence, did he finally speak once more. “I want you to take Vergil. Raise him as your own. You are only below me. Strong and stilled many with trepidation with your power, Nero. Mundus cannot hold the throne any longer. I will rule and raise Dante to be powerful enough to become king after me.” He then shook his head leisurely, as if he was doubting himself momentarily. “Dante will be a man of brute strength. Even if one of my sons can be… normal… I’ll be alright. Trust me, I know this burden upon you will be plenty. But please. My last order to you as your superior… I implore you. This is not ideal for me either. I would’ve loved to have raised my sons with Eva. A normal life in Red Grave. But… the terms were given. The bloodshed was created. Mundus will exile himself if I take the throne and raise Dante. I -”

“Sounds like you’re pussing out.”

“Nero…”

“Fuck you. I don’t need that condescending tone from you!” Nero began to pace around the narrow room, barely able to dodge the furniture. His arms waved around the air frantically. “You can take these shitty terms and shove them up your ass first of all! And secondly, how the hell are we gonna manage this?! They are TWINS! They are gonna meet up eventually! What makes you so sure that Mundus will stay away?! That he will not cause harm to anyone?! HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT-”

“ENOUGH!” Sparda’s voice roared, causing the picture on the wall to fall onto the cold concrete floor. Loud cries began to fill the air, and Nero’s ears began to ring. Sparda began to gingerly rock the two in his arms to soothe them. “You will NOT disrespect me in front of my sons. I can easily cut you down where you stand. Don’t forget I am superior to you. Nero,” he hissed out. “If I do this, both can live. They can have goals. Achieve dreams. Reach for something and give their lives fulfilling meaning. If I separate Dante and vergil, then at least they can be guaranteed a life. To have realms to be themselves. I am very split over the dubious behaviour of Mundus, my pride as knight, and depressed state of a widowed husband, and a father. This is the key to my sons’ survival, to your very own as well.”

The younger knight bit the inside of his cheek to silence his furious words. He ignored the copious taste of copper in his mouth and simply stood before the obviously distressed senior before him. Sparda took the silence as a sign as a yes.

“Now, if you so would kindly take Vergil from me…” he hesitantly watched as Nero shakingly grabbed a hold of the now silent baby Vergil. Both pairs of eyes watched as Dante’s chubby hand tightly held his brother’s hand in an unforgiving grasp, unwavering in its hold. Nero opened his mouth to speak but the quick look he received from Sparda was enough to again quiet him. Nero felt his heavy pang in his heart as he forcefully had to yank Vergil from Dante’s grasp. Dante’s shrill cries bounced loudly off the hollow walls. The piercing sound caused both male demons to wince. But the younger inwardly cursed to himself as Vergil clung to his red shirt. “Take Yamato. It will be given to Vergil when he turns eighteen. My token to my son. A keepsake. And if Mundus does break his vow, I will personally end him.” The chilling tone from the older made Nero shiver, and his eyes landed on Yamato. Yamato…

What a beautiful sword. Sparda had placed some of his power into the katana. The intricate gold wrappings and black ornaments. The sword can split two forces, cut through dimensions, and allow the user to teleport to whichever place desired. Nero had the opportunity to wield it once during battle as he fought alongside Sparda. But his heart belonged to Red queen, which currently rested on his back. Red Queen was vastly different from Yamato in both wielding and style. The engine-like sword was an anti-demon weapon and served Nero gracefully.

With no words spared, Nero trudged over to retrieve Yamato. He made sure to ignore the intense feeling of Sparda’s gaze gnawing at him. He grabbed the thin katana and glanced down at Vergil, who smiled toothlessly up at him. The baby babbled quietly up at the silver-haired man. Nevertheless, he used Yamato to open a rift into the air that will lead him to the land of the living. Without a backward glance to Sparda, Nero stepped in. But he heard the heartfelt whisper from his superior.

“I wish you well. Take care of Vergil, Nero. I believe in you.”

And with that, they left Hell.

  
***

Does raising a child come with a manual? No, it does not. As the water fell from the ominously grey skies above, Nero carried Vergil in his arms. In the span of twenty minutes of now having Vergil, Nero got smacked at least ten times, Vergil switched from crying to babbling indecisively, and why the hell are baby toiletries and food so damn expensive?! Nero pulled his hood over his head and clutched the small baby in his arms. The bag of recently purchased baby items hung over his elbow, occasionally smacking to his side. The plastic was getting soaked but Nero truly did not give two shits. God, he hoped Kyrie was okay with raising a demon spawn. Literally. He had no idea how to raise a child, let alone a demon.

Night winds gently kissed the sheathed Red Queen and Yamato. He paused when a pungent, menacing scent of a swarm of upcoming demons. Demons regularly attacked the serenity of Fortuna on a daily basis,and those bastards always got a taste of a bullet or a stab from his loved blade. Nero smirked wickedly as he shifted his hold onto Vergil with one arm. He grabbed Red Queen and readied himself for battle.

“Let me show you how to rock, little one,” he said.

***

He wastes no time knocking on Kyrie’s door, repeatedly, until the doors opened finally with soundly creaks and groans. Kyrie blinked owlishly as she took in the appearance of Nero and a giggling baby. “Nero, what?” Kyrie spoke so tenderly that her voice could have easily been carried away by the wind. Her autumn brown hair cascaded down her back, and her honey-colored hues widened in awe and worry. Her pink lips glistened with light gloss from earlier that day. Streaks of moonlight washed down her hair, giving her an ethereal pale hue of beauty. She was dressed in a simple white nightgown.

Nero was very much aware of what he appeared to be: A man covered in generous amounts of blood, his coat in tatters. Cuts carved into once pristine skin, his hair stuck onto his forehead in a caked mess of blood and rain. Red Queen was tightly held into his grasp, and the baby was giggling happily to himself, very oblivious to the dark situation he was in. It was three in the morning, marking the “Witching Hour”. The bag of his purchased goods torn and barely managed to keep the items in place.

Nero swallowed thickly as he stared widely at his lover. “I- we…” he trailed off. A tired sigh past chapped lips, and for once, the loud-mouthed man was speechless momentarily. Kyrie worriedly rushed to his side and pulled them both in a warm embrace. The softness of her bosom cradling his face instantly calmed Nero, and he felt like he was home. Kyrie was the light of his life. An angel sent from above that this hell hole did not deserve whatsoever. The white noise of rain washed out of his ears as he listened to the rapidly beating heart next to his ear. It was like a kiss to his troubled mind. Nero was so bewildered in this situation. Why did Sparda make it feel like there was no other way out? That there were more questions to be answered? But he has to take this farewell, and make Vergil’s destiny to live a normal life was a mortal. Nero silently pledged that he will raise this boy to be the best damn man he can possibly be. He will give Vergil protection, power, and everything he never had.

“Let’s get you two inside and warmed up. We can talk about this over a warm cup of tea, okay, Nero?” she suggested kindly as he let the man go. She faintly smiled as she delicately took Vergil into his arms and cradled him to her covered breasts. “What’s his name?” She poked the baby’s button nose affectionately, earning her a soft babble and smile. Nero, too, found himself smiling warmly at the sight.

“Vergil. We are gonna raise him, and love him wholeheartedly… If that is okay.”

Kyrie beautifully smiled as bright as the sun, her whole face lightening up. “Vergil huh? I like it. A strong name. Of course! I will never turn anyone away! He is so adorable!” she gushed and cradled the child tighter. She ushered Nero into the building and from there on out, Nero will protect them both with everything he has.

Nero walked in and watched as Kyrie put the baby on the floor so he could crawl around freely. The floor luckily was carpet and cleaned so there was no danger for the young boy. The moonlight seeped through and lit up Vergil’s wide, blue curious eyes. Wide eyes happily scanned the new surroundings, before crystalline eyes locked onto Nero. Nero audibly gasped as the pudgy baby began to crawl his way towards him. Small hands cautiously touched his ankles, and an electrifying current shot up his legs and spine. With a soft chuckle, the demon hunter moved to sit onto the floor with his now son and crossed his legs. He watched Vergil with tender eyes as the small demon made a content thrilling sound. Shyly, the silver-haired man caressed the silver locks of Vergil’s hair. He moved the torn bag away from Vergil’s grabby hands.

“The sun will paint your face with gold,” Nero whispered to the boy. “I promise. You will live happily. I will protect you, Vergil.” His tone finished with a strong finality. There was no way in hell will Vergil live through life afraid. As long as Nero was around, Vergil is gonna chase his dreams, be himself, and love. Soon enough, Kyrie walked in with a tray of two cups of warm honeysuckle tea, and a bottle of warm milk. “Thank you, Kyrie…”

The woman smiled angelically and sat beside Nero. She handed the man his drink and glanced over at the back.

“What’s in the bag?” She inquired. Nero hummed thoughtfully as he watched Vergil crawl a bit.

“I picked up a few baby things... “ he replied. “I’m not sure how to raise a baby but we can try together.” She giggled and placed down the tray to retrieve the bottle for Vergil. She motioned Nero to grab the happily moving infant. Nero, catching on the clue, leaned over and propped Verge on his lap. Kyrie began to bottle feed the boy.

“He does look quite like you, though, Nero…” she smirked. “Did you have an affair I’ve not known about?” she teased. Nero comically sputtered and began to spew a bundle of words that soon did not sound like English at all. “Relax, love! I was just merely throwing a joke!”

“I only love you,” he said seriously. A rare expression of raw intense, open admiration caused Kyrie to blush deep scarlet. She remained quiet for a few moments until vergil was done with his meal. Finally, did she say something.

“I know. And now, you have two things to fill your kind heart with, Nero..”

***

At the age of two, Vergil likes books. The small boy would be in his own world as he stared at the colorful picture books. He had a strong liking to the kid’s story, “The Cow jumped over the Moon.”

The small boy would carry the book everywhere he went. Nero questioned his parenting skills as Vergil even tightly held onto the book as Nero bathed him. The toddler had enough intelligence to not get the thin pages wet, but would whine cutely if Nero even attempted to grab the book from his small hands. Everywhere Nero went, Vergil followed.

***

At the age of four, Verge repeated Kyrie’s actions and words. The small boy would try to cook, but only was pushed away from the stove or gently told to not be so close. Kyrie briefly would sneak the boy a lesson or two.

At bedtime, Nero would have to tuck Vergil into bed. The small child would determinedly hold onto his father so he could cuddle the larger frame all night. And who could deny a cute face such as Vergil’s? Definitely not Nero. The small toddler had the demon hunter wrapped around his finger.

“Papa …” a timid voice spoke from his chest. Nero sighed softly as he carded his fingers through silky strands of his son’s hair.

“Yes, my little Cyan?” Cyan was a nickname he gave Verge when the toddler’s love for blue was discovered. Two large eyes peeked up at him, shining brightly with an idea.

“Can you sing?” came the quiet question. His son wanted him to sing him a lullaby.

“For you? Yes.” Truth be told, Nero never sang once in his life in front of others. He only ever sang in the shower. He pulled the smaller demon close to his chest and hummed in content. In a soft whisper, Nero began to sing to his son. “Rain at midnight, sparkling magical eves. The warmest rays of sunshine, listen to the call of your name. Light twilight, dark skies tenderly call you to sleep. The moon shines overhead, come magic creatures around your little bed. You are their master. Do not be afraid, my little Dove. Out of your dreams, they dance on silent feet and talk to you. This love flows through me washes over your seas. Your creatures watch you sleep, amazed by your perfection. No length I would not go to to give you my protection. I love you. Do you know how much you mean to me? Darling my world is at your feet…” He kissed the crown of his now slumbering child. He held him close to his side. Soon the man fell asleep.

Not much later, Kyrie fondly smiled at the sight of her two boys sleeping in bed. She carefully kissed both of them on their cheeks, and pulled the covers over them. She turned off the light and silence filled the house.


	2. Pure Imagination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vergil is growing up.

It was at the age of six that Vergil wanted to see the Northern Lights. The small boy squealed in delight as he flipped eagerly through the pages of the National Guide. Vivid, colorful lights danced across the double-spread pages. Bounded in red leather, cracked and dry with age, the thin pages smelt faintly of tobacco and mildew. But the vibrant colors of the night skies were just as appealing as ever. Colors splashed over the exposed pages, breathtakingly drawing the small boy in. Despite the brittle, thin pages within, the book was a profound discovery to Verge. A faint scrawl within the picture of the Aurora Borealis declares that Nero had seen it.

The boy gasped in surprise before turning on his heel and running out of his room. The book felt like a miniature deadweight in his small hands, but nothing will deter the boy from showing this to his father. Vergil rushed hurriedly past Kyrie, who blinked slowly at the blue blur that just zoomed past.

“Vergil…?” She questioned openly into the air.

Nero exhaled slowly as he wiped the collecting sweat from his forehead. Heat licked at his slightly sun-burnt skin and coiled around his limbs like an unforgiving, hot-blooded serpent. The grass stood still as if it was too hot to move. The clammy air hung heavily around the blue-eyed demon-hunter. He licked his lips as he peered down at the bloody, wild red roses. Velvet petals brush softly against his fingertips.The flowers bathed in a golden haze. Nero hummed thoughtfully as a shadow towered over him. He sniffed the air and smirked at the familiar scent of little Cyan.

“Papa ! Look!” A book was shoved into his face, and Nero grumbled petulantly as too much color slapped his eyesight. Nero sat back a bit to drink in the sight of the captured Northern Lights. “I want to see these! A-Aero..Aujo?...” he tried to sound the words but to no avail. Nero chuckled at the boy’s attempts.

“The Aurora Borealis.”

“Yeah!” Verge exclaimed and moved a bit so his father could stand up. He watched the tall male brush off dusts of dirt of his clothing, and turned to face him. Vergil clutched the book tightly to his chest. “I want to go see them!”

“I see,” the father crouched down to be at eye-level with his son. “How about I show them now then?” Instantaneously, Vergil’s face abruptly broke out into a brilliant grin. The moment the words past his lips, Nero knew Vergil would be putty in his hands. The boy excitedly began to jump in place. Nero silently rejoiced in the cute image of Verge being happy and holding the guide in his petite grasp. His small extremities powerfully holding onto a book that could easily topple out of his hands. The smile on the boy’s striking face was blinding for all to see, and Nero could save it for himself for all eternity.

“Take a look, and you will see the Aurora Borealis. Firstly, spin for me, Cyan.” With a series of eager nods. Vergil began to slowly spin in place. “Close your eyes,” he added. Verge shut his eyes tightly. His heart was beating so rapidly that it smacked into his ribcage. The boy was sure his father could hear it. Suspense and anticipation triggered blood to rush to his ears and a senseful tingle tickled up his spine. The silence was deafening to the blue-eyed child, and Nero watched wordlessly for a moment before standing.

“What you will see… will make you melt,” Nero whispered. He opened his mouth slightly, and created a mist-like substance from his mouth. The demon-hunter could create both visual and auditory illusions for a short period of time. The mist oozed out his open cavern, and colors began to seep into his breath. Slowly, the illusion flowed into ribbon-like waves, and covered the azure skies. The Aurora lights came out as nature’s carnival dance, swaying the sky with brilliant waves of colors. Each color gradually laced into one another, illuminating everything with neon. Like a vibrant road, it snaked through the air and disappeared behind over-standing trees. The dark sky began to appear with his illusion to bring out more colors. In the serenade of black, the lights radiated much more lively.

Nero gently tapped the top of the spinning boy’s head to get his attention. Immediately, Vergil stopped spinning and opened his eyes. An inhale of astonishment exited his lips, as Vergil’s mouth was left opened ajar. The weaving blanket of beaming hues stretched above them. A colorful mist danced around his small frame and weaved past pedestrians. A small awed crowd began to gather around to memorize the unknown light show. The crowd gasped and pointed at the stretching and receding lights. Pink and purple swirled together, and strived and shrinked around the boy. Crystalline orbs alluringly reflected the vibrant, dancing shades. Eyes were wide with wonder and open amazement. The splendid display made Vergil feel all fuzzy and giddy in excitement on the inside. A cage so filled with contentment that it felt like he was gonna burst at any given moment. Nero’s sharp eyes watched his son’s stricken expression of pure… bafflement, and he flicked his tongue. The mist danced a bit more, and thus another illusion was created within the lights. A collective sound of shock filled his ears, as a doe danced through the sky. Stars sang together and created the constellation of a doe. The animal moved gracefully through the horizon. Never before was Fortuna filled with such magnificence.

Kyrie curiously stepped out of their shared home and instantly was discombobulated. Weaving lights covered the dark sky, and a doe swam through the ocean of neon lights. It clicked to the brown-haired woman that it was just only 12:30 in the afternoon, so the sun should be up hotly claiming the blue skies. The sun should be near its highest peak, but oddly enough, it is dark and the Northern Lights were here. She felt all air leave her body as she, too, watched the elegantly unreal display. She absentmindedly strolled over to stand next to the quiet Vergil. Kyrie wrapped the boy in her arms and lifted him up. Her son caressed the softness of her hands as he allowed himself to be held. A warm smile graced her lips, and Nero was proud of himself. It has been some time since he last used the illusion ability.

But if he could impress his family and give them happiness, then he would learn it a thousand times more until perfection.

  
***

On Vergil’s seventh birthday, Nero accidentally swore.

“Fuck,” he muttered. He was struggling tying the knot on the end of a balloon. Kyrie looked completely appalled and flabbergasted, as Vergil curiously tilted his head.

“Fuck,” the boy repeated. Nero’s eyes comically widened to the size of saucers. “Fuck!” Verge giggled.

“Vergil, no! That is a bad word!” Kyrie chastised. Her lover had to stifle his laughter, but she could tell he was struggling from how his shoulders trembled. The boy’s widened as he got scolded.

Nero shrugged and stood after kicking the balloon away from his person. He picked up the little child and held him.

“I’m gonna take Cyan to the store with me,” he said. “I’m gonna get some eggs to make the cake batter for his cake. Do you need anything?” Kyrie tapped her cheek with her index finger in thought, silently contemplating if she did truly need anything. After a few seconds, she shook her head. “Alright.”

He carried the quiet Vergil out the house, and strolled down the sidewalk. “Is everything okay, Cyan? You’re awfully quiet for a boy curious about the world.” He glanced and blinked at the humorously pouting face of Vergil. The boy had his cheeks puffed out, and mouth tightly pursed, his eyes narrowed. “What’s with that face?”

“You made me speak bad words!” Nero gasped in mock defense.

“I did not!”

“Did to!”

“Did not!”

“Did to!”  
This went on for about five minutes. Nero couldn’t believe he actually wasn’t growing annoyed at the situation.

“That was a sentence enhancer. It is okay to let frustrated words slip out. Now, there is a time and place for it. Do not say it in front of others unless they deserve it.” He gently tapped the middle of Vergil’s furrowed brows. “Wipe that look off your cute face…” he cupped his son’s face and rubbed their noses together in an eskimo kiss. Vergil smiled and held onto the man carrying him.

The pair walked down the peaceful walkway, kindly brushing past fellow citizens. The sun’s golden rays painted everything in a heavenly tone. Gentle breezes nipped at their exposed necks, and the two laughed at a shared joke. Light reflected off the serene blue waters, and other couples walked past. It was just the two of them that mattered in the world. Nero pressed their foreheads together affectionately as they continued to laugh. A few rogue petals danced through the breeze, and Vergil caught one luckily. He gently placed the petal behind Nero’s ear, and said that he was beautiful.

“Please don’t grow up, Verge,” Nero whispered. Even at the age of seven, Vergil was strong, bright, and headstrong. He was home schooled by Kyrie and the boy could read above his age level. If only time would stop unfolding so quickly…

***

He’s nine when he is enrolled in a public school. Much to Nero’s internal horror, he watched Nico walk Vergil to the bus stop. It took about two seconds before Nero shook his head in disagreement. The man walked out, grabbed his son’s small wrist, and began to walk him to school. If Kyrie thinks Vergil socializing is really needed (is it though?), then fine. He will just watch from afar. Make sure no one bothers or bullies little Cyan. No harm in protecting the little boy. But it was true. Vergil was growing. The boy broke things, unsure of his strength, would run at speeds that a human could not even practice to run at, and he was now a bit past Nero’s waist in height.  
When Vergil met Nico, he sure gained a very, very colorful use of words. But it wasn’t until his mouth was washed out with soup by Kyrie did the boy stop. Vergil liked to watch Nico build things, to learn how to repair swords and guns. He watched in awe as Nico washed Red Queen for Nero. Yamato has been mounted above the master bed ever since Vergil came home. Vergil grew a strong liking towards Nero’s friend, and he was happy he at least was learning more from other people. But as long as Nero remained his favorite, Nero did not need to worry.

When they reached the small school, the teacher’s face brightened up with amusement as she watched Nero struggling to let go of his son’s hand. “Your first time letting your son go huh? It can be hard, I assure you, but he is in safe hands.”

“Can I stay with him for the first day?”

The teacher smiled thinly. “Unfortunately not.” Her voice did not sound apologetic even the slightest. But Nero stood there, holding Vergil’s sweaty hand. The boy’s book bag was nearly the size he was, and the boy had an overstock of sanitize wipes (thanks to Nero), food from Kyrie, pencils and books, amongst other miscellaneous items. Reluctantly, Nero let the small fingers slip through his own, which were itching to grab Vergil once more. He watched his son get called over to a little girl with black hair and two mismatched-colored eyes.

The teacher clicks her tongue. “Mary will treat your boy kindly. She seems to be popular on the first day.”

“If you say so…” Nero grumbled stiffly. He solemnly lowered his head and sulked out the building.

Nero sat high in the tree and watched his son’s first day. It was cute seeing Vergil and Mary gush to each other, but a pang of jealousy swelled up in his heart. What if Verge left with Mary and never came back? The horror! Vergil is getting closer to the age when boys only think about girls, and it appears Mary will be a looker when she grows up. Would Verge tell his father to shove it up his ass and leave? Nero would fight Vergil if he wanted to leave that way if needed…

The loud strike of the bell snapped Nero out of his reverie, and he leaped out the tree to take Vergil home.

***

It was a few weeks later Vergil announced he had a girlfriend. Kyrie was taken back, and Nero comically collapsed to the floor.  
“She’s my friend, that's a girl!” Vergil explained, and Nero felt his heart soar. Not yet. Vergil is not gonna leave and be defiled. With questionable speed, Nero embraced the boy and was relieved. Kyrie snickered at the theatrics Nero just expressed.

***

Eleven. Vergil was eleven when he finally touched Yamato. His fingertips delicately painted over the sword’s cover, and he immediately grew curious. He leaned over the bed it was mounted above, and carefully took it off the wall. He carefully unsheathed the katana, and clumsily swung it. A sharp sound sliced through the air, and it left a harsh ringing in his ears. Yamato hummed in his hands, a gentle vibration crawled up his arms, and the sword sang to him. Demonic screams and whispers filled his mind, a rush of demonic tongues and promises that Vergil could not understand. He whimpered as blood began to trickle out his ears; he felt the smooth slither of crimson down his neck.

“Vergil!” Nero shouted and rushed to aid him. The taller male grabbed Yamato and deftly swung the sword into the sheath in one smooth motion. “Never touch that again! You won’t see Yamato until you’re 18!” Nero growled and lifted up his son. “KYRIE HELP VERGIL!” He shouted and nuzzled his son, despite being furious. Not only did he break the rule of touching Yamato, the sword connected itself to him, and caused his son mental anguish and harm. “Fuck. Goddammit!” He held the whimpering Vergil close until Kyrie hurriedly came over with a first aid kit in her hand. Nero gave Yamato a side-eyed glare as he held his son. He was gonna have to hide it…

Night fell and the house was eerily silent. The silence was only disturbed by the continuous ticking of the Grandfather clock. Candles lit up his reading quarters, and Vergil openly stared at the book expressionlessly. His eyes were dulled as he recalled the events earlier that day. Of course he got grounded, but he could not get the broken expression Nero wore when he had Yamato out of his mind. The candle’s flame flickered as he exhaled deeply. Fatigue was clawing its dirty claws at him, but he simply was too disturbed to catch some shut eye. He could call Ma- he meant Lady. But Lady is probably asleep already. She had a lot of knowledge about outwordly things. She spoke about Hell, demons, and angels. All which excited Vergil with child-like glee, but when it was brought up to Nero, his father instantly shut it down. He was forbidden to even ask about such a place and exotic beings.

“It is past your bedtime, Cyan…” Nero spoke softly behind him. His breath fanned over Vergil’s ear, and the preteen scowled. He did not spare his father a glance. Nero’s handsome face was given an orange glow., but his eyes were shadowed. “I’m sorry about earlier, but that sword is not meant for you yet. You will receive her once you turn old enough. But for now, let’s get some rest, okay?” he spoke in a voice so sickly sweet, it washed over Vergil like honey. After a minute of nothing, Nero continued quietly. “I will explain this. Yamato was given to me. The sword was forged in Hell…” he slowly moved his hands onto the space between Vergil’s shoulder blades on his back, “It can cut into dimensions, it holds such power and is only loyal to those who truly wield it…” he dropped his voice even lower. “My son..”

“How long are you gonna avoid talking about hell?” Vergil asked timidly. Nero frowned at the expected question. His eyes locked onto the dancing flame of the melting candle.

“Until Yamato is yours. Give me until then, please?” his tone took an edge of hopefulness. “I am sure lady is quite the smart one about these dark topics, but Vergil…” Nero rested his chin on top of his son’s head, ignoring the hairs tickling his chin, “you and she are two different people…”

“But..” A faint glow surrounded Nero’s hand as they were splayed on Verge’s back. A soft thrumming comfort washed over his very being. Nero soundlessly poured a soothing spell into his boy, hoping to help him forget all the terrible touching Yamato thrusted onto him. The soft light moved up and down Vergil’s back, and he watched his son slowly begin to nod off.

“But nothing, my little Cyan. Just get some rest. I will make sure everything is okay…”  
The quiet promise spoke volumes to the dozing Vergil, and he simply found his eyes drooping. In just a few seconds, Vergil fell forward from sleep. The faint light vanished from Nero’s hands and he carefully maneuvered the smaller male in order to pick him up.

He carried his son to bed and lovingly tucked him in.  
Later that night, Yamato was sealed underneath the house.

***

Lady waited by the other side of a gate for Vergil. The two met when they were nine-years-old, and have been friends for eight years and counting. Vergil had a soothing aura around him, and calmed Lady. Vergil taught her many things about literature and history, and in exchange, she expressed the things about Hell and its fellow demons. She explained her pure hatred for demons, and Vergil simply never said a word about it. He was quiet about certain topics. She brushed her raven-colored hair with her fingers, and offered a small smile at her disgruntled friend. Vergil’s usually swept back, spiked, and neat hair was in a disarray. Bangs fell into his blue eyes, framing the upper portion of his handsome features. His uniform was perfect, not a single wrinkle in the clothing, his shirt white dress shirt buttoned up completely, and his black slacks were well-kept. His dark dress shoes had sunlight bouncing off them with each step. “Sheesh, what crawled up your ass, Verge?” Her friend grunted his response, but offered a fatigued smile. Her mismatched eyes watched as he opened the gate and stood by her. “Don’t you have one more year and the Yamato is yours?” A nod. “Well, are you okay? Are your parents upset at you or something? You never let yourself look this way…” she trailed off as she waved her hand at his unkempt hair.

Vergil sighed in defeat as his eyes cast down onto the asphalt sidewalk. He spoke. “I could not sleep. I still sometimes hear Yamato whispering to me. It is quite odd. My father asked me if we do not speak of it until next year, and I will grant his wish. I wonder about his past, Lady. Who he was. What adventures he goes on with Nico. He sometimes returns bloody, but says everything is fine. Just how long can he keep this up? I’m not blind. I have eyes. I’m not deaf. I hear him. I hear the wailing of demons. Some even spit in my direction, but I always get protected by my father…” he bit his lip unsurely. “I just am...baffled. I’m conflicted with these shapeless emotions, and I feel like there is something more for me out there…”

Lady teasingly hummed and poked Verge on the tip of his nose as they began to walk towards school. They are 17 now, basically about to enter the bright yet daunting world of adulthood. Vergil gently took hold of Lady’s bag and huffed it over his shoulder, so she wouldn’t have to worry about carrying it.

“Aw, thank you, Vergil!”

“No problem. My father always taught me to help a woman, if need be.”

“Well, I am a tough woman though. Not some damn damsel in distress.”

“That’s why I can be around you. You aren’t annoying, and do not have a brain manifested with the stupidity of the modern age,” he mumbled.

Lady paused in her casual stroll to simply blink. “Uh, thank you?”

Vergil smirked. “Anytime.” he waited for her to catch up, and then his face darkened with such a stern expression, lips turned down with a scowl, brows furrowed, and his eyes darkened like a dark sea. “My father and mother are not upset at me. They are okay, I just feel like I’m not. My father does everything in his power to protect us, and that is the problem. What if something happens? Would I just throw myself into the battling world with no known concept of battle? I can throw a fist and I know martial arts, of course, but these things that my father fights, aren’t human. They aren’t like you and I, and I fear he will not have anything left…” The worry etched on a usually reserved face had Lady thrown into a loop of worry. She could only gape at the man before her. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it, unsure how to respond to intense emotions and worries. Her family was not as close as Vergil’s. She loved her mother dearly, and while her father was an asshole, she did love him too. But she watches how Vergil and Nero were always so close. One following the other around, vice versa. Sometimes she would watch Nero move on silent feet, and watch his son carefully. Everytime Vergil needed help. His father would always be there. Vergil always amazed many by his perfection, and it seemed his father would, too.

“Let’s go to class, Lady,” his voice broke her out of her head, and she nodded.

“I’m sorry,” she stopped Vergil with a hand motion in the air, “but your father is amazing. He does not look a day over 25 and he fights to protect you. His skills are immeasurable. He loves how he fights. Very passionately. I do not think you have much to worry about. Nero is not going anywhere anytime soon. And he promised to train you and give you Yamato! He does not break promises.`` She patted his shoulder in a friendly manner before walking by him. He stood, rooted by her words. He shook his head and swept his hair back. His soft spikes moved with his hand and the hair was out his face. He made a pleased sound before moving to walk with his friend.

Both teens were unaware of a demonic being flying high above them. The demon had long hair, blue spectral arm-like wings, and feather-like horns.

Perhaps if they bothered to look up, they would’ve seen it. Maybe. Maybe not.

***

After classes ended, Lady had suggested the two of them went to the local cafe for a coffee. Vergil at first was against the idea, but then she bribed him with the reading possibilities. A cafe was a great place to settle down and read a good book alone as you enjoy a warm cup of coffee. He eventually agreed but with one condition: that he will return home before his father freaks. Lady scoffed and rolled her eyes at the man.

“Of course,” she said. The duo walked through the lively town. The town’s lights from the late shops painted the night air with various colors, a glow. Lights bounced off dark surfaces, and the night air nipped at skin a bit. Not cold enough to be frigid, but just enough to need a thin jacket. Vergil gave a passing glance to the open sign out on the sidewalk in front of the cafe, and he opened the door. The bell chimed cheerfully, alerting the workers of a newly arrived customer. He held the door open for Lady and allowed it to close when she entered.  
The door closed with a soft click, and a cheerful cashier greeted them heartedly. “Welcome to Ivory and Ebony’s Cafe! How are you lovely couple doing today?”  
Vergil had to resist the urge to gag at even the thought of dating Lady, and his friend laughed loudly. Vergil sniffed the hazelnut aroma that wafted through the air.

“Oh no, honey, we are just friends!” The cashier flushed with embarrassment and swiftly apologized. Lady waved her off and with a shrug of her shoulders. “It is alright, we get that often! Now, can we have two orders of black coffee? Cream and sugar on the side please?”

“Coming right up!” the worker exclaimed. “Your total is 3.50!” Lady pointedly looked at Vergil;, who sighed and pulled out his wallet to pay for their drinks. He always got stuck with the bill. No matter how small.

He handed her a five-dollar bill, and told her to keep the change.

“I will find us a table, okay?” Lady said, and Vergil wordlessly nodded. His eyes trailed over to the large three-pane window, and a flash of obnoxiously bright red caught his attention. His heart thumped in his chest, and Vergil completely bewildered, took a step forward. “Vergil?” Lady questioned softly behind him, and Vergil kept his gaze out the window.

“I’m sorry. I thought I saw something…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH!! ; 3; Little Verge was so adorable!  
> i love his friendship with Lady, and Nero low-key jealous Vergil is expanding!~


	3. Red in the rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vergil gets lost in the rain, and gets into a rather violent conflict.  
> But a flash of red meets him.  
> Who?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your eyes catch my own. 
> 
> Italicized words are Vergil's thoughts ONLY!

The crash of thunder and the blinding flash of lightning were Vergil’s only warnings before a tree a few literal inches away fell to the ground. The ground shook for several seconds, and Vergil held onto a nearby stump in order to keep his balance. Sapphire orbs shut tightly as he stood his ground against the rain that relentlessly pelted his being. The ground abruptly stopped its insistent shaking, and Vergil pushed himself up away from the lone stump. 

He vaguely even remembered how he found himself out here in this treacherous weather, but the flash of red was alluring. The come-hither red that flashed past his eyes, and the lingering unknown beckoning was too much to joke. Vergil paused momentarily to get a brief glance up at the sky, and judging by the darkness surrounding him, it was fairly late in the evening. He wasn’t sure how long it has exactly been since he followed the red, but Vergil estimated it must be close to Midnight. God, his father must be freaking up a storm right now. Vergil never stayed out late past curfew in his life, always been the one to please his parents, but there is always a first for everything. 

_My father can be irrational at times, but he should have faith in me. I need to follow.._

Vergil scowled at the image of his mother’s lips quivering worriedly and his father growling in quiet rage. Nero was overprotective, that much was certain. His father was firm as a mountain, and he was the only man to ever make Vergil do a double-take. But there was no way in hell he was gonna miss the opportunity to discover something. A deep primal call awakened within him, and he could not not do this. His heart twinged with an unknown burning sensation, and his fingertips tingled. His phone vibrated in his breast pocket, only to be unanswered. It consistently shook against his chest, and while it began to become a nuisance, Vergil stubbornly pressed forth. He shivered at the abrupt gust of bone-chilling winds, and quickened his pace. His brown boots slowly sank into the unforgiving mud, causing him to struggle taking forth another step. Mud squished underneath his heels, and his blue coat dangled around his ankles. Vergil squinted as he carefully made his way through the leaf-strewn, mud undergrowth. The silver-haired teen hugged his gifted coat over his lithe body frame as he trudged his way through the dripping forest. 

Weeping willows seemingly were gazing solemnly down at him as they lifelessly watched him struggle. Branches moved harshly with the winds strength, and the gallows howled loudly. 

_If I continue to head in this general direction, then I perhaps shall see what the red flare was. I should be coming up to a road soon enough,_ Vergil thought. _“If I arrive on a road, and there is not a single trace of red, I shall turn around and head home._ Vergil’s train of thoughts paused. _My father won’t be too pleased, and I'm quite sure Lady is aggravated I left her…_

Vergil instantly froze when he heard the sound of a twig snap. He glanced down at mud-covered boots and knew it could not possibly be him that made that sound. He was just standing in mud and washed away grass. Verge remained in his position and breathed shallowly. He was very thankful to least be in thick woods for the opportunity to hide and defend if needed to be. 

When there were no further alarming sounds, the silver-haired teen released a relieved sigh. 

_Must've been the wind,_ he thought dismissively. He shook his head and continued his midnight trek in the woods, searching for the obnoxious red. Just as Vergil began to relax, a blinding flash of light ripped through the sky. The blue-eyed male gasped as the momentarily light revealed a huge, ominous wolf on a nearby tree stump. After the lighting bolt faded, Vergil could sense the overwhelming aura from the wild beast. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he turned to fully face the animal. It’s black fur was in a mess of unkempt spikes, and his cerulean eyes glared dangerously at the man, as if sizing him up. It’s eyes trailed up and down his body, and he felt suddenly exposed. Weak. Vulnerable. Saliva slowly dripped from the sharp canines, and fell onto the already soaked stump. Razor sharp claws pressed into the wood and carved into it. The hungry wolf was huge, and if it stood on his hind legs, then it would surely tower Vergil. 

_Don’t give in. Your father raised no weakling. Do not let your guard down._ The beast seemed to have smiled toothily at the human. The animal heavily sniffed the air in a slow, drawn out manner, and Vergil took a cautious step back. 

“Sparda…” The wolf grumbled out deeply, baring its teeth at the man. Vergil raised a thin eyebrow at the name mentioned. Who was Sparda? Bewilderment flooded him as he registered that the animal just spoke. 

“Sparda?” he repeated questionably. “You’ve got the wrong man.” 

The black wolf bit at the air viciously as it took a step forward. “No, I smell his blood in you. You are his kin,” he spoke coldly. Vergil scowled deeply at the words. His father’s name was NOT Sparda. 

“My father’s name is not Sparda. I will not let you speak ill upon his name,” he said bluntly. “Now, I will not ask you more than once,” Vergil boldly stood tall and took a bold step forward, “leave me and my father alone. Get out of my way, scum.” The wolf bristled at the man’s words and growled as he snapped his jaw in warning. 

“Listen here, you vile Sparda kin, I will gratefully eat you and bring back your dismembered head to your damn father.” 

Vergil held up his hand and did a come-hither motion with his fingers, beckoning the wolf over. “Come.” Many emotions swarmed through Vergil, many he could point a finger on, but one thing was for sure, he was not Sparda’s kin, and he won’t die without standing his ground. The wolf let out a thunderous roar, and lightning touched the ground a few feet away. The wolf lunged its full body at Vergil, and the silver-haired teen smoothly grabbed a nearby stick and smacked the wolf square in its jaw. “I’ve never seen a talking mutt before. You would definitely be an annoying pet,” he taunted as the wolf raised itself from the ground. 

“You dare make a mockery of me?!” The wolf barked, and lunged once more. Vergil swiftly side-stepped and kicked the animal away from him. Verge strongly ignored the powerful emotions clawing at his heart, but the rush of adrenaline was overpowering everything else. The will to survive was not a joke. His sharp eyes watched the wolf shake the mud off its body before growling lowly. A dark sound rumbling through its core. Vergil readied himself in a battle-ready stance, and when the wolf again leap at him, he slipped. Vergil grunted as a onset of pain shot up his spine. His body collided painfully against the muddy Earth, and soon the wolf was looming over him. His opened mouth revealed just how intensely sharp the canines were and saliva dripped onto his face. The animal’s tail wagged slowly behind him as he peered down at the captured man before him. “Look at how the mighty have fallen,” he teased wickedly. 

Vergil only blinked before he had to think fast. The rain began to pour more harshly than before, and his bangs fell into his eyes. The man clenched his teeth together and blocked the oncoming attack with his forearm. He hissed as throbbing pain jolted up his arm at the piercing teeth breaking through flesh. He felt the warm blood soaking through his clothing, and he growled up at the demonic wolf. Vergil struggled as the wolf remained latched onto his arm. His heart felt as though it was gonna beat out his chest, and once more, his phone vibrated. He used his other hand and grabbed the snout of the animal above and his other hand clutched the bottom portion of the wolf’s strong mandible. He began to pull them apart in an attempt to release his arm, but unexpectedly, after a moment of battling, he ripped the animal’s jaw in half, and attacked. He growled savagely, a primal sound, and pushed the demon off him. Vergil panted heavily and glared darkly at the whimpering being before him. The jaw dangled off the animal’s face. Verge shakily stood and clutched onto his bleeding arm, and ignored the wetness of blood on his fingertips that clutched tightly to apply pressure. Vergil’s eyes widened in disbelief at the aftermath of his strength and stumbled forth. He watched the animal run off with its jaw flapping in the wind. Vergil was pleased when the pained cries of the wolf echoed through the stormy night. With trembling fingers, he fished out his phone and glanced at the bright screen. 

**_26 missed calls from Father, 5 missed calls from Lady, and 10 missed calls from mother. 52 unread text messages._ **

Rain droplets covered his screen and he quickly attempted to send his father a text. But the wetness on the screen’s surface caused the phone to spazz and text random letters and even numbers. Jumbled paired texts ran amok on his screen, and he cursed as he wiped his thumb across it. The water smeared before he placed it back in his pocket. It was a fruitless attempt. 

“Rain sucks, doesn’t it?” A charming voice called from behind. Vergil’s eyes widened in utter disbelief at the smooth sound. He clutched his injured arm tighter and swirled on his heel to take a look upon the man’s voice that spoke to him. The first thing that caught his attention was the vibrant red. A long red coat blew in the wind, and mirroring crystalline eyes bore into his very being. Silver hair was brushed down and bangs partially covered blue orbs, matching Vergil’s exact appearance. The man wore long, tan-colored jeans, black fingerless gloves, and military-style boots. The man boldly was shirtless, revealing his very firm and fit muscles. His muscular physique made him blush, and Vergil was in awe. His eyes gradually traveled up to the red-wearing man, and Vergil gawked. The man had the same exact face as he did! The man smirked smugly, “See something you like, beautiful?” 

Vergil scowled. “Why are you carrying my face? What are you, a face-stealing piece of trash?” He lifted his chin haughtily as he held pressure onto his bleeding wound. His heart spiked in speed tremendously, as the copy-cat stepped in front of him in a flash. Vergil stumbled back at the abrupt flash of red and eyes directly staring into his own. Vergil stared at his reflection in the mysterious man’s eyes. His expression was perplexed, and the man chuckled in mirth. 

“You’re smaller than me…” the man in red mused loudly and tapped his chin thoughtfully as he straightened up to his full height, towering over Verge. “But we are related, _brother,”_ he purred the last word seductively. “My name’s Dante,” he grinned wider at Vergil’s confused expression. His eyes then drifted to Vergil’s bleeding arm and he hummed. “Let me help you,” he offered. 

Vergil shook his head to break himself out of his stupor and carefully stood in place. “No, _Dante,”_ he spat. “Whatever you are, I assure you that we are not related. Never heard of someone so idiotic and with a horrible fashion sense nonetheless.” Dante frowned and glanced down at himself before doing a slow twirl, his two-tailed coat swaying with the movement. 

“I think I look devilishly handsome,” he said. Vergil’s heart kept beating fastly, and his phone again to buzz. Dante’s eyes trailed over to his breast pocket where the cellular device resided. “Want to answer that, Vergil?” 

“I never told you my name, you imbecile. Who are you and what do you want?” he growled darkly, and narrowed his eyes. Life must love to fuck with Vergil, for this was his most bizarre experience yet. Someone claiming to be his brother, they share the same face, and shows himself after he fucking fought a talking wolf. What the hell!

“I told you, we are related. Brothers. What? Did the human world make your noggin grow smaller?” he asked with genuine curiosity. “Human realm is so different from the Underworld…” he said quietly, as if he was drifting off somewhere else. “But that wound looks nasty. Your healing abilities seem to not fully be in effect yet....” 

“My what?” Vergil shook his head, causing water to fall off his hair tips, and caress down his smooth cheeks. “I have no idea what you speak of, but you sound mentally ill, Dante. Now please, refrain from spewing nonsense, and get out of my way.” he hissed when his arm throbbed painfully, and Vergil clutched his arm with bruising force. His vision began to blur from blood loss, and he tumbled a bit in his spot. Dante smirked knowingly and leaned over the struggling teen once more. 

“You look hurt…” Dante said. Barely hearing any of the doppler’s words, Vergil struggled to stand up straight. The teen fixed the blurry red figure with his most wilting glare and inhaled shakily as he felt the sudden urge to vomit. His nether regions began to burn hotly, and pain spiked up his body. Verge immensely panted for air. Dante worriedly looked at his twin, and when he reached out to touch the frail Vergil, Vergil’s entire world went black. 

***

  
  


The faint sound of boots squelching on the soaked ground was the first thing Vergil heard as he gradually grasped onto consciousness. Vergil slowly opened his eyes as drowsiness and unconsciousness in his mind cleared away. The silver-haired teen was bewildered as he took in his surroundings. 

_Where am I? What happened? I remember red. A man claiming to be named Dante and we had the same face. Is my father okay? Why do I feel so warm? Why am I above the ground? Am I floating? No…. I can’t fly. Someone must be carrying me…_

“Honestly, you are very stubborn,” a smooth voice commented. Instantly thrown out of his feeling of relative comfort, Vergil’s head snapped up.his head whipped so fast that it caused an ache to stab his neck. He blinked owlishly as he slowly drank in the sight of a rain-soaked face of his own. Dante… 

Dante was real. Without bothering to look down at Vergil in his arms, Dante kept walking forward. He faced forward as he spoke. 

“Ah, you’re awake Verge.” Vergil narrowed his eyes disapprovingly at the nickname but suddenly moaned in pain. Sparking Dante’s interest, the red-wearing man looked down at Vergil’s slightly blushing face. 

“Are you not comfortable?” he asked curiously. Vergil pointedly looked at his arm crushed between Dante’s chest and his body. Dante stopped in his tracks. 

“Your arm must be more painful than I thought,” Dante spoke. Vergil nodded his head sheepishly, ignoring the sting of his pride for being carried so easily like a female. The taller man veered off the road they have been traveling on and picked his way through the foliage. Vergil trembled at the coldness nipping at him, and Dante moved closer to let his body warm up Vergil. Ignoring the kind gesture, Vergil cleared his vision and took in his surroundings, mentally mapping them for later use.

Dante focused his attention on a lone tree stump and shuffled over to the temporary seat. In all honesty, this was not how he was expecting his first meeting with his long-long twin. Vergil was smaller, pale, and so human-like. Dante vaguely could sense the slumbering demon within the other, and it only made him question things. How could identical twins look so much alike but so different? Dante instantly caught onto their height differences and Vergil’s outstanding beauty. He felt ugly compared to the light of the other man’s beauty. Vergil had such pristine skin, rosy pink tinted lips, guarded cold yet curious ocean-like eyes, and a slim body, his narrow waist, and his adorable scowl. Shifting his thoughts away from Vergil’s appearance, he gently lowered the smaller man onto the stump. He stifled his laughter at Vergil slightly jumping at the cold wetness on his bottom as he settled onto the stump. Dante crouched down onto one knee and looked directly into his twin’s eyes. 

“May I see it?” he asked seriously. Verge bit his bottom lip and obstinately looked away before delicately raising his injured arm to Dante. Dante focused his attention onto the arm as his hands tenderly traced around the wounded area. He looked closely as he pulled up the sleeve of the blue coat and hummed as deep teeth marks oozed blood from his torn skin. The deep gashes brightly painted red, and the area was entirely inflamed. Vergil was thankful the rain let up, and it was a soothing sound to his ears. 

Suddenly, Vergil whipped free fist around and whooped with silent joy when felt his knuckles make contact with the back of Dante’s bent head. His arm was instantly released as Dante’s face slammed into the stump. Taking the opportunity to escape, Vergil abruptly jumped onto his feet, ignoring the pain, and fled into the woods. 

_What an idiot…_

Vergil mentally patted himself on the back as a familiar incline of a hill reached underneath his feet. A petite smile spread across Vergil’s lips and he felt a small flare of hope at the prospect of returning to his father and mother and end this forsaken nightmare. That flare was instantly erased though as a sudden pressure from his arm increased. He trudged as he once more gripped the arm in a vice-like grip, and inwardly cursed at the unfairness of it all. Today just was not his day. Vergil’s boot slipped on a slippery slope of the hill, and he yelped when his body suddenly was falling down the hill. His body tumbled violently down the tall hill. The world rushed by a blur; his body jerked and twirled as he fell. Pain repeatedly attacked his body from all sorts of angles. His back landed on the ground with a soundful thud, and his throat was constricted from shock of the fall. He wheezed deeply for air, and attempted to raise to his feet despite his body groaning in protest. 

“Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it,” A voice said directly above Vergil’s prone form. Vergil gritted his teeth in pain and annoyance at the voice of the copy-cat. 

“Shut the hell up,” he hissed up at a now grinning Dante. Vergil noticed his face was no longer getting wet from the rain and looked up to notice Dante was holding his coat over him. 

_Charming…_ Vergil thought sarcastically as he tried to stand up. The attempt was quickly dashed as he cried out and was prepared to fall on his face. Instead of the wet earth greeting his face, Vergil collided with a warm chest. Vergil clenched his jaw tightly as his body was wracked with pain for perhaps the third time tonight. 

“Stop denying help,” Dante drawled as shifted to accommodate Vergil. 

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Verge instantly snapped back. Dante only chuckled and shrugged out his coat completely. Vergil quietly watched as Dante sank his teeth in the obnoxiously red coat and ripped a section of cloth off. Vergil bit his lip to try his best to silence the discomfort as Dante shifted him so that his head was against a broad, strong chest. Dante wrapped his coat around Vergil’s trembling body as Dante peered at the injured arm. 

Vergil fixed the look-a-like with a hate-filled glare, and Dante could not help but to laugh at the irony of the situation. 

“Just hurry up so I can go home and forget you,” Verge muttered as he crossed his other arm over his chest. Dante paused in his ministrations to gaze at the other. 

“You’re awfully ungrateful for someone as injured as you. I just ripped my favorite coat for you, and you act like a brat.” At being called a brat. Vergil outwardly seethed. But he simply snorted and looked away. 

“Again, you piece of trash, I did not ask for you to do anything…” he replied. Dante lifted an eyebrow at the insult before smirking with mirth. Vergil turned to face Dante and questioned him with his sapphire hues. 

“You truly are easy to tease,” Dante snickered with amusement and swiftly dodged a stick directed at his head. “You’re my favorite.” 

Vergil scoffed, “I’m a delight.” His eyes watched the rain small paths of water on Dante’s otherwise flawless face and dripping off his silver-haired locks. It clicked to Vergil that they really did share the same face. But there was something more handsome and alluring about Dante, and if Vergil did not dislike him as much as he does now, he would dare call Dante handsome. 

Faster than Vergil could wrap his head around the situation, he was easily lifted up and Dante carried him out of the woods bridal style. Vergil balked at being held in an intimate manner. 

“What th-?! Put me down!” Vergil commanded. Dante only chuckled. 

“Would you prefer to ride me?” Dante said suggestively, and oddly Vegil felt his cheeks heat up at the statement. He looked away from the annoying man and slightly pouted like a petulant child. 

“Bastard,” Vergil muttered childishly. 

Dante openly laughed at his brother’s behavior, and the smaller twin sighed at the unfairness of the situation. His phone buzzed in his pocket once more, and he left it ignored. His eyes scanned over Dante’s bulk frame and blinked when he noticed two guns resting in a leather holster. Huh, why didn’t he notice those before? As the rain soothingly fell upon them, Vergil felt his eyes droop, and his vision growing dark as fatigue and exhaustion came to claim him. 

*** 

The sun’s peeking brightly through Vergil’s bedroom, the morning light woke the grunted teen up from his rest. Well that, and the fact he heard his father and Lady screaming right outside his door. Vergil reluctantly opened his tired eyes and breathed a sigh of discontent. 

_Can’t the morning be quiet? Is that too much to ask for?_

The crashing sound of his door being kicked in was the response to his unvoiced question. Vergil tiredly rubbed his eyes and winced when his arm jolted with pain from the movement. A shred of clarity ran through Vergil as last night’s events raced through his mind. He was following red, it was raining, he fought a talking wolf that called him Sparda’s kin, he got bitten but won, then he met Dante…

He quickly sat up at the realization that Dante was in fact real. But how did he return home? 

_Was it a bad dream?_ He glanced at his arm that was tied in red, and came to the conclusion that it, in fact, was not a dream. It was a reality. 

“Vergil!” Nero shouted worriedly and jumped onto the bed carefully. His expression was clearly written with worry, but Vergil noted a darker emotion behind the worried mask. Nero was pissed. “Are you okay?” he moved closer to his son and hugged him tightly. His strong arms wrapped Vergil in a blanket of safety. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?” 

Vergil was silent, and Nero continued. “I cannot believe you abandoned Lady at the cafe, may I add after class, to follow this red. You disobeyed and now, there’s this sickly dark scent lingering over you. Did you encounter a demon?” he sniffed Vergil’s neck and snarled dangerously. “You… “ he didn’t even get to finish the sentence as Lady and Kyrie both rushed in. 

But Nero bared his teeth at them to stay back. Something dark shifted in his father’s scent and mood, something territorial- something that made Vergil think about raindrops on top of snowy mountains and sugared pine cones. He was in awe as he never witnessed Nero bare his fangs at anyone, especially his mother. This scent made Vergil’s body ring in alarm as Nero moved closer and did not allow anyone near him. He was not sure if it was his father being protective or if some unknown instinct was taking over. But it was odd. His father laid down next to him and hugged him closely. He felt his father’s breath fanned over his ear as the whispered words danced into his ear. 

“Stay away from demons, especially Dante…” 

Vergil broke. He had so many questions. Who was Sparda? Dante? Did he have a family he was not aware of? Healing factors? 

“Sleep, little Cyan. I’ll protect you.” Vergil’s eyes instantly closed and he drifted off soundlessly into a peaceful sleep. Nero’s eyes gazed thoughtfully out the window, and narrowed as a man in red waved mischievously at him from afar rooftop. Nero had to resist to flip the bastard off, but he remained calm as he hovered over his son as a shield. 

The day has arrived too soon. He needed to call Sparda. Dante broke the breach and ran into Vergil before their 18th birthday. Vergil was not ready. He was far from it. But one thing was for sure, he was not gonna let Dante harm his son. 

Never. 

He apologetically nodded his head at Kyrie and Lady, who both watched Nero in a state of stunned awe and fear. They never heard such an ugly snarl from Nero and never directed at them for that matter. 

Lady frowned. “Nero seems to be territorial over Vergil. A demonic instinct... “ 

Kyrie’s lips worriedly wobbled as he looked at her injured son’s arm. 

“Vergil…” she whispered heartbroken. “What happened last night?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They met! 
> 
> The reason why Dante is taller than Verge, despite being twins, is because he constantly grew in Hell. His build is more broad and muscular, as Vergil's is smaller but lithe. Vergil is toned but more slim. He is the size of a teen, and doesn't have his demonic powers quite yet. 
> 
> Dante is a dominant demon, as Vergil is submissive. But Vergil won't let that mark him weak. Both will have different abilities.


	4. Tree of Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confusion is held between two demons, and a tree was born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy!~

_ The last thing I remember was being carried by Dante. I remember the cold rain and mind-numbing pain.  _

_ And of course, the last thing I saw was his face before darkness claimed me.  _

  
  


***

A pair of cyan-colored eyes shot open as the silver-haired teen jolted himself out of his nightmare. His eyes searched the room fearfully as he clutched the pristine white sheets between his white knuckles. His breathing was erratic and his heart raced as if he was chasing something for miles. While he continued to act this way, Verge failed to see the man laying in bed next to him fast asleep. After a few moments, Vergil’s body began to calm down, his body slowly relaxed as he took deep breaths. His earlier panic and fear was soon replaced with bewilderment. Vergil looked around his bedroom before finally landing on the frame of his beloved father. He watched Nero breathe evenly for a moment before gently carding his fingers through short, silver spikes. His father barely stirred. 

“Father…” Vergil whispered as he released the hold on the sheets to experimentally flex his fingers and moved his injured arm. He instantly took notice of the red cloth wrapped around his wounded arm and gasped in shock. So, he truly met Dante. He did fight a talking wolf and broke its jaw with his shear strength alone, he was called Sparda’s kin, and… 

He blinked slowly. How did he arrive home? Dante carried him and, while Vergil passed out from exhaustion and blood loss, he was quite sure the moron would not just show up to his father’s place and drop a bloody Vergil off. His father would’ve lost his shit completely. Nero often drove the potential male suitors away from his house and brutally crushed their hopes in ever dating the stunning Vergil. So, that was out of the question. His head swarmed with mounds of purposeful questions, shapeless emotions, and lingering thoughts. His storm of a mind was thunderously crashing and it felt like thorns were stabbing at his brain. He clutched his hair strands tightly with both hands and winced at the insistently throbbing pain in his head. He looked around his room through half-lidded eyes., gazing upon the blue printed wallpaper with white, little intricate snake-like patterns in vertical rows. The two large diamond-pane windows to his left that currently had the curtains drawn, and a door that led to a en-suite. Vergil’s eyes leisurely drifted to the right to stare at his brown desk which had a brown chair to match. His books were neatly stacked on the desk just the way he left them the night before. A dozen of white roses rested peacefully in their glass vase above the desk on top of a wooden bookshelf. Right next to the desk there was a solitary full-length, ancient ornate mirror. It had piercing clawed feet, and a black frame with the inscribed phase “ **_kaeps ot em dna eht rehto lliw raeh dna ees ouy, sa llew sa kaeps kcab.”_ ** Vergil never bothered to gain history of the mirror, but he knew it drove men mad, thus why Nero banned him from speaking to it. Directly across from the mirror was a nightstand that held the remains of a candle along with its holder. 

_ I was called Sparda’s kin. I apparently have a twin named Dante… _

He glanced down solemnly at his hands. He continued to stare at them until they began to shake. 

_ Just who am I? What am I? _

Shakily, he raised both hands to his face and rubbed them around his entire head and all over his face in a panic. Vergil clenched his teeth as an overwhelming feeling of alarming confusion and the feeling of being lost began to build in his chest. His hands stopped their roaming and he began to quietly hyperventilate. He was careful to not disturb his snoozing father, but the search in his mind was driving him into a frenzy. It appeared he is sifting through an impenetrable fog of unanswered questions. 

Was his father truly this Sparda fellow? Maybe Dante was some crazed shape shifter that wanted to lure Vergil in and kill him. 

His eyes once more landed on the pinched eyebrows of his father’s sleeping face, even in sleep, his father was angry. His lips were pulled down in a deep scowl, and his hands were clenched around the sheets. He felt a small smile grace his lips while gazing at his dad. No matter what the situation was, in all honesty, Nero was Vergil’s father. He raised and loved the boy wholeheartedly, defended him through a lot of conflicts, and listened to him. He did everything a loving father would do: Sacrificed and sacrificed. Nero never judged Vergil in a negative light, and it was refreshing. He was, however, extremely overprotective but that was bound to happen. 

“You’re awake!” A gentle yet familiar voice cried from the doorway. The teen was instantly jerked out of his thoughts and he swiftly leapt off the bed to stand on his floor. The sudden movement caused the bed to shake, and Nero ever-so-slightly stirred. Kyrie smiled sweetly at him as she held some folded clothes in her hands. She wore a white dress that clung around her curvaceous figure. 

“Mother…” he spoke quietly, as if he was going to crack at any moment, “how long was I out?” The brown-haired woman blinked in slight surprise before gently smiling at the overwhelmed and greatly confused Vergil. 

“You were out for two days, my love. Your father has not left your side since you’ve returned home bleeding that night…” she whispered but smiled nonetheless. She watched her son smile faintly at his father before shifting his attention back onto her. He opened his mouth but she raised her hand in a silent gesture. “V, what happened that night? I never saw Nero growl at anyone, especially me! It was like he scented the whole room while you were out… and you were greatly injured…” she coughed into her elbow, mindful enough to move the cleaned clothes away. 

“Mother,’ Vergil began with uncertainty but his face remained passive, “I met someone. Someone who claimed to be my twin. His name was Dante. I fought a speaking wolf that claimed I was Sparda’s kin…” he shook his head. Verge said nothing more but a thought lingered in his train of thoughts. “How did I come home, mother?” His sapphire hues gazed at his mother intently. She shifted onto her feet and bit her lip worriedly. 

“Well, we found you on the doorstep. Your father was relentlessly pacing around the house, mumbling to himself, and lashed out at Lady. He was so broken when he saw you bloodied on the threshold! We both were so worried our baby boy was dead, but luckily you were breathing. Vergil,” Kyrie sniffled, “Please. Be more careful…” her amber-colored eyes began to water. “I’m not sure we've ever heard of Dante. And you’ve encountered a demon?!” She gasped and her voice broke as tears cascaded down her soft cheeks. “Vergil, please…” 

Vergil swiftly moved on silent feet and wrapped both arms, despite the injury on one of them, around his mother tightly in a comforting embrace. “Mother, I’m sorry…” he said apologetically. “I just was so entranced by the bright color of red, something called to me to follow it. I…” he hugged his mother tighter, and his heart broke when a choked sob slipped past her lips. 

“Nero and I were afraid we were gonna lose you,” she whispered and kissed his cheek. “You’re nobody’s kin but our own. We love you more than anyone else in the world.” she delicately cupped her son’s cheek and affectionately nuzzled his cheek. “I would’ve lost myself if something had happened to you…” Her voice was so soft, so tenderly broken it reminded Vergil of morning waves washing up the shores. He offered his mother a sympathetic smile and lightened his hold on her. She always whispered comfort to Vergil and it made his body peacefully shut down. She just simply soothed him no matter what the situation was. Kyrie coughed again, and smiled at her son’s concerned expression. She waved her hand in the air as she still held onto the clothes in her arms. “I’m just sick with a cold.”

“Vergil!” Lady’s voice exclaimed as she barged into his bedroom. Her mis-colored eyes blinked at the sleeping Nero, who grunted in his sleep and turned away, nuzzling Vergil’s pillow. “You’re okay!” she said, her voice taking a relieved tone to it. She walked over and lightly hugged her childhood friend. She was careful enough to not disturb him embracing his mother. But Lady awkwardly brushed her fingers behind her neck as she averted her eyes. “I uh…” the raven-haired woman bit her bottom lip and inhaled deeply, “I met him.” 

Vergil’s cyan eyes widened in shock but his mouth still remained closed. He was silent for her to continue. 

“I met Dante,” she finished unsurely. Dante’s name left an odd taste in her mouth and she frowned. “He looks like you, but bigger? More burly?” she hummed and tapped her chin. “I caught him killing this massive demon monster. I almost shot him through his head, but he spoke to me about you…” 

She watched her friend’s body language closely. Vergil’s shoulders tensed slightly and his eyes were wide as saucers. Verge opened his mouth to speak, but Kyrie’s voice broke out first. 

“The Dante that claimed to be Verge’s twin?” she inquired. She slightly frowned and exhaled shakily, as Vergil’s tenderly wiped away her tears. “I won’t let them take you from me, my love. I don’t care if they come here, I won’t easily give you up. We love you. We raised you. We love you. Dante can run around all he wants, but I don’t care. This ‘Sparda’ is not your father. Nero is. I will stand up if I need to. I know you must be questioning a lot of things right now…” 

Vergil remained silent but scowled. His brain was beating itself up at this moment. Too much happened at once, and now he has family running around, and demons chasing him. 

“You and father will always be my family,” Vergil said matter-of-factly and kissed Kyrie on her lightly wet cheek. The tear streaks were gradually drying and her face brightened up just the slightest. “You won’t have to fight for me, mother. I would never leave you and father. No matter what and who comes along…” Vergil released his hold onto his mother and turned to face Lady. “I will admit that I’m curious about what that buffoon said about me, but we’ll meet again. As for now, I will wait until my father awakes.” he then made his way to his door. “Let me help you, mother, with the laundry and let’s allow father rest. I’m sure his worry and rage tired him out. Lady,” his eyes stared at her plainly, “join me. I am gonna heal a bit here, but for now, just hang out here.” 

With that, the three of them waited for Nero to wake up as they went through their day. 

***

Upon waking, Nero burrowed himself into warm, soft sheets. He rubbed the remainder of sleep from his eyes and gazed out the horizon from the window; its vivid light stretched across a rosy sky. He plainly watched the beauty that drew many artists and photographers in and felt nothing. This was a common sight in Fortuna. Nero’s hand subconsciously brushed over the cool, empty spot next to him. He blinked away remaining fatigue from his eyes as they darted around the room frantically. 

“Vergil?” Nero whispered and sprung out of bed. He barely registered his feet touching the floor from how swift they brushed across the surface. He paused as muffled sounds echoed through his keen hearing. The sound of laughter. Nero gently cupped a hand around his ear as he closed his eyes to listen more closely. Vergil’s soft chuckle mixed harmoniously with Kyrie’s quiet voice. He sighed as he realized that Vergil was, indeed, safe in their home. A grimace flashed over Nero’s angular features while his eyes stared at the mirror in his son’s room. He could sneakily use it to reach out to Sparda.. 

But that could be risky. Vergil could casually stroll in and see things he was not ready for. Damn it though. Dante already gun-hoed his ass into the Earth realm and met Vergil. The other twin must’ve spoke things to his boy, and he (Nero) could smell Dante’s spicy scent on him. But then again, Dante did save Vergil and brought him home safely. Nero honestly just wished that he could’ve had more time to gradually tell Vergil about his heritage. To tell him about his brother and Hell. Fucking Dante.. 

He cursed under his breath and strolled over to the mirror. He frowned at his own disheveled appearance and rubbed thoughtfully under his chin. Would Spada even answer? This was risking enough as it is, and Verge could come in. But say, if Sparda did answer, he had to curse him out as quickly as possible. While mentally weighing the possible outcomes, Nero tapped his cheek with his index finger thoughtfully and stared at himself in the mirror. Might as well try to make the best of this chance. He shrugged his shoulders. 

“Sparda,” Nero said in a quiet voice. The mirror’s surface began to twirl like storm clouds ominously swarm together with heavy promise of rain, and the glass turned back. The mirror’s clawed feet stretched across the width of the floor, slithering like a snake through grass. The mirror was deafeningly silent, not a sound broke through it as it’s screen changed. “Mirror, let me see Sparda.” With a sudden dark flash of light, the mirror revealed Sparda writing on an important document at his desk. His hand scribed across the page, causing ink to sprawl onto the page in feathery like calligraphy. Nero watched as Sparda adjusted his monocle over his left eye and sighed. “Sparda,” he repeated the name again in a hushed voice to catch the man’s attention. 

Sparda’s hand immediately halted in its writing and the demon ruler slowly lifted his head up towards the direction Nero’s voice spoke from. Sparda blinked at the sudden and unexpected appearance of Nero appearing in his mirror. Bewilderment and yet happiness flooded through the ancient warrior and he stood to bow respectfully to his friend. 

“Nero,” he spoke in a charming voice, “it would be a lie if I said I am not surprised by this call. What makes you seek me?” he straightened to his height and offered a friendly smile to the other. Nero huffed on the other side of the mirror call and obstinately crossed his arms over his chest. 

“It’s about Dante…” At the mention of his son’s name, Sparda’s eyebrows lifted up in confusion and interest. 

“What about my son?” he inquired. He folded his hands behind his back and listened to Nero carefully. 

“He met Vergil last night,” he informed dryly. “His red coat must’ve intrigued Vergil, and my son followed him. The odd point is, why was Dante in my realm? Why would he seek Vergil before their 18th birthday?” 

Sparda blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. He comically grabbed his cup of tea to only spit it out dramatically a second later. “Dante left Hell?!” He asked in stark and utter awe. Nero paled. So Sparda was not aware of Dante leaving? Interesting but not good. “He was defending my castle last night from attackers. How…” he trailed off as he pondered deeply to himself, muttering to himself. “Well, I am discombobulated, I say. I was not aware of this. I will deal with him later, but…” his eyes locked onto Nero’s furious ones, blue and blue clashed. “How is Vergil?” he asked in such a heartfelt tone that Nero was taken back briefly. “I am sure he has no demonic powers yet but is he healthy? Does he have friends? Is he sin-”

“Okay, let’s answer these one at a time, old man,” Nero interrupted sharply. His curt tone had no effect on Sparda, who was delightfully wriggling in place at talking about Vergil. “Vergil is healthy, a strong stubborn man. He revealed no demonic powers yet, just brute strength. Nothing too troublesome. But, he encountered a demon. I smelt it on him. He was bleeding, and I’m assuming the other scent was Dante’s. It had your blood lingering in it. Your son,” he gritted out, “brought my son home safely. But they weren’t supposed to meet yet. Vergil is not ready, Sparda. I implore you to make sure Dante stays away, please.” he then rolled his eyes at the stupid questions the elder asked. “I scared away all suitors from Vergil, so yes, he is single. He is the top of his academic classes, the valedictorian of his entire class. He loves literature, especially poems by William Blake. As aloof as he may seem, he is actually pretty sensitive. Ironically, he is very blunt to others though. He is truthful to himself and others, even if it can cause harm to both parties. He has his mother’s kindness. He loves cooking with Kyrie and reading with her. He takes occasional trips to the library a few times a week to hang out with the librarian, who loves reading as much as he does. Vergil usually keeps to himself but he has one friend. Her name is Lady. She is a fierce yet kind woman. Women can be pretty terrifying..” Nero’s face brightened up tremendously as he spoke about his beloved Cyan. “Vergil’s eyes hold wonder and he is always willing to learn. He is a very skillful fighter, too. He likes soups and vegetables but sweets? Not so much.” he then shook his head to get himself back on the serious topic. He gazed at Sparda intently, and the elder demon knight was looking so… content. A soft warm smile was pulling at Sparda’s thin lips, his pale eyes were tender, and his expression was serene. 

“I do apologize, Nero, it is just not a day goes by that I do not think of Vergil. I knew you would take care of him, and that he is simply yours now, but Dante…” he looked away to stare at something in the background Nero could not see, “ Dante remembered Vergil. Funny right?” he chuckled fondly. “They were separated at birth, but yet, my boy remembered his twin. He always rushed to my side to ask if he could see Vergil. It was like he was enchanted the moment they were born. Dante has proven to be a promising heir. He is strong as he is rebellious. He is full of that rebellious teen rage..” he shook his head and made eye-contact at Nero. “I will try my best to keep Dante away, but for the record, I cannot force him. It is time they met. As you said, they are bound to each other. Soulmates in the most literal meaning..” he held his tea cup in his hand and took another sip. “Is Vergil okay?” 

“Er, yeah. Just bleeding on his arm, but I’m assuming Dante bandaged it up with his coat." Sparda nodded. “I’m sure Vergil is gonna ask questions, and be upset I hid things from him, but I did what I thought was best. You and I both want Vergil to have a normal life after all…” he placed his hands into his pockets and nonchalantly shrugged, obvious at a loss. “I haven’t gifted him Yamato, but he did touch it when he was eleven. The sword sang to him, he said…” 

Sparda smiled. “Yamato is made for Vergil. It wants to be with its master. My swords do have emotions, you know.” he winked. “In all seriousness, I would love to meet my son, Vergil, soon though. “ 

“Sparda,” Nero said sternly as he proudly stood his ground before the demon king, “Vergil is my son.” Sparda smirked with mirth, unfazed by the bold declaration. He did tell Nero to raise Vergil as his own, but biologically, Vergil was his son. 

“I know,” Sparda eventually agreed. 

***

Nero walked down the stairs, each step creaked loudly in protest from the added weight. The silver-haired man sighed as he inwardly thought back to his conversation with Sparda. The demonic ruler of course was casual about Dante being Dante. He seemed so enamored with Vergil, hearing about how his son grew up. And even Sparda mentioned Vergil’s beauty when he was shown a picture. Vergil was something else, and Dante always wanted to see his brother. Now, Sparda wants to meet him, does that mean he is gonna take Vergil back to the bottom pit of Hell? At the thought of his son leaving, Nero’s heart painfully twisted in his chest and left a bad taste in his mouth. 

“Father, you’re up,” Vergil’s silky tone broke him out of his reverie, and smiled in relief when a completely healthy Vergil stepped in his peripheral vision. “I heard you stood by my side, but you growled at everyone who came near,” Verge smirked playfully and wrapped his arms around his father’s shoulders. “Thank you,” he whispered sincerely. He placed a quick peck onto Nero’s cheek and stepped back. “I won’t pry you for answers,” he ran a hand through his hair, “for now.” he added. “My arm is okay,” he held up his injured arm to his father. “The bleeding stopped.” 

“But you haven’t removed Dante’s coat piece off…” Nero noted. A faint blush painted over pale cheeks. 

“I want to meet him again,” Vergil said. “It is a reminder. I need to know what I am. Maybe he can help me, father,” he said wistfully. The longing tone in his voice made Nero shudder a bit in shame. “I don’t want to put more pressure on you. I know you’re a demon hybrid and you’re a demon hunter. Mother told me earlier. Don’t be mad at her, she just wants peace,” he smiled faintly at the speechless Nero. “I love you,” he said. He brushed past his father, as Kyrie coughed loudly in another room. “Mother is sick…” 

Nero frowned worriedly. So much on his plate right now. Vergil meeting Dante and getting harmed. Nero failed to protect him and now, Kyrie is sick?! Fuck! It was such a state that Nero ushered himself to the living room. Kyrie was resting on the couch, Vergil had placed a warm damp towel on her forehead. Kyrie’s face was sickly flushed and her skin was paler than usual. Skin glistened with sheets of cold sweat, and her breathing was labored. How did she get so sick in the two days Nero was out? 

“Kyrie…” Nero rushed over to her side and gently pressed her hand to his chest. “Do you need anything?” he asked kindly. “I’m here,” he began to lovingly massage his thumb over her knuckles. 

Her warm eyes weakly stared up at her lover. “An apple…” she replied. 

“I’ll get her one,” Vergil piped up and stood. “You stay with her, father.” The teen walked out briskly in long strides. He passed through the kitchen and exited the house through the screen door. His eyes gazed upon a magnificent apple tree. The round-topped tree had vibrant green leaves and a short, crooked tree trunk. It stood tall in their small garden, so full of life it was boasting. 

The weight of his emotions washed over him, and Vergil’s shoulders solemnly slumped. He had so much to talk to Nero about. He had to meet Dante again, he just… 

With heavy steps, Vergil walked towards the fruit tree and leaned on the tree trunk. His body fully pressed against the hardwood and he closed his eyes. A deep inhale was taken before he slowly exhaled, and he felt the weight lightly shift. A painful pang stabbed in the deepest part of his heart, and his stomach twinged with excessive, uncomfortable knots. 

  
  


“To hell with it all,” Vergil cursed under his breath and a lone tear slipped down his cheek. The blue-eyed male scowled and wiped his eyes before reaching for a delicious red apple. Unbeknownst to him, his tear fell into the fertile soil below his feet. He better hurry and give this to his mother so she could feel a little better. It was peculiar how she got sick out of the clear blue, and his father was just so torn between everything just like he was. In the short span of time, the world was collapsing at both his father and his feet. The damage was done, and while Vergil was super curious, this would ultimately harm both parents. 

  
  


With the rich apple in his hands, Vergil pushed his body away from the stump and frowned when the ground began to shake beneath him. A loud sound of branches creaking caught his attention, and he swiftly spun around to witness it: A tree miraculously growing.

Branches danced through the air, twirling and coiling around each other in an embrace. Black tree roots twisted and stabbed fiercely into fertile soil and the soft earth below them. The tree claimed its spot, and its dark bark was so patterned as if it was carved by her own rain-born flash rivers. The obsidian tree stretched up high in the skies, its limbs reaching out in various directions. The green bounty and earthly browns danced and crawled over the dark-colored bark. Vergil’s eyes widened as he watched breathtakingly bright, aqua-colored leaves blossomed onto the branches’ fingertips. They sparkled like shimmering stars at night, and a curtain of rays of cashmere-like hues appeared, draping itself over the neon, twinkling leaves. Little orbs of lights floated around the fantasy-like tree, and they moved. The leaves and its orbs were choreographed by the wind in perfect time together. Its skeletal boughs twisted and glittered like brass coils reflecting silver moonlight. The tree’s massive roots danced in and out of the ground in an abstract waltz. Some leaves were a mint shade, blending perfectly into aqua. The massive tree overlooked the entire city of Fortuna. The wind gently made the tree’s branches sway, and Vergil could not tear his amazed eyes, as the oddly-colored leaves danced through the winds, and swept through the city. 

“Cyan, is everything okay? You’re tak-” his words died down his throat when he gazed upon the magnificent, surreal tree. Its various shades and balls of crystalline hues left him absolutely speechless. 

“Father …” Vergil spoke absentmindedly as he was at a loss. 

“Did you...do this, Verge?” Nero asked slowly and his eyes finally looked at his confused son. “This is the tree of vitae…” he said. “How did it…?” a leaf brushed by his cheek, and a soothing wave washed over him. A light glow covered his body, and Nero blinked when the old scars on his hands faded away. “What?” he asked quietly to himself. His eyes trailed the leaf’s path as it flew into his house. He rushed after it, and gasped when it perfectly landed on the bridge of Kyrie’s nose. “Kyrie?” Her closed eyes slowly opened, as a soft light encased her body, and within seconds, she smiled brightly as she sat up. 

“Nero! I suddenly feel so much better!” she beamed at him, as if she was not severely sick a moment ago. 

That night, everyone in Fortuna was healed one way or another. 

Vergil stared agape at the mysterious tree, and a voice spoke to him. 

“Hey, Verge.” Vergil slowly turned his line of view from the tree , so his eyes met Dante’s. The vibrant shade of Dante’s jacket contrasted drastically to the shade of blues around them, including the blue of Vergil’s crystalline eyes. 

“Dante…” he said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;) oh that Dante. 
> 
> Sparda is one of my favorites. Poor guy wants to meet Verge! He got so excited to hear about him! Haha


	5. Emotions and plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nero and Dante's first meeting results in a dropkick to the face. 
> 
> Vergil's unaware of his powers. 
> 
> Sparda's apprentices are polar opposites.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! C: Please enjoy !!

_ “Hey, Verge.” Vergil slowly turned his line of view from the tree so his eyes met Dante’s. The vibrant shade of Dante’s jacket contrasted drastically to the shade of blues around them, including the blue of Vergil’s crystalline eyes.  _

_ “Dante…” he said.  _

***

“ What brings you here, Dante?” Vergil inquired with a clipped tone. Aqua-colored petals danced around them gracefully in the wind, and Dante’s eyes momentarily followed their movements. A silent moment was shared between the two curious souls, and Vergil felt his heart race unusually quick. 

“That tree,” Dante replied and grinned at Vergil; it seemed to have widened more like the Chesire cat at Vergil’s irritated scowl. “Someone like you to make the tree of Vitae to bloom is something exotic, don’t you think?” He watched Vergil’s facial expression intently, as the other white-haired male kept his seemingly permanent scowl. “You might not know about this tree but,” he held up an index finger and wagged it playfully, “it can heal even the deepest of wounds, terminal diseases, and all in between.” He hummed and the mysterious red-coat man strolled around in a circle around the quiet Vergil. Dante cocked his head to the side as he roamed his eyes up and down Vergil’s slim figure. He was truly smaller than himself...

The variant shades of blue illuminated Vergil’s face in a moon-like manner and framed his pale cheekbones and nose tips. But what really drew Dante in were the eyes. The swarming lights reflected in Vergil’s hues like a fantasy; like an accessory of ancient ice and forgotten oceans. The crystal clear blue of serene waters that remained untouched in undiscovered coves and reservoirs. 

“You are saying that I did this?” Vergil spoke. He seemed to have scoffed behind his lifted hand. “That is just idiocy taking over that small brain of yours,” he teased. He held onto the forgotten red apple in his other hand tightly in a vice grip. “I’m just a teenager with a love for reading,” he shrugged and his lit eyes stared at the taller man. “Whatever you may be, is not what I am.” 

“Verg,” Dante called out softly and took two bold steps closer to his brother. “Believe it or not,” he sighed and ran a hand through his unkempt locks, clearly exasperated, “but you are not human. Neither is your father. Not me. Not you.” Vergil hissed venomously and stepped back. “You are probably going through demon puberty,” Dante snickered. 

“Demon?” 

“Shit…” Dante mumbled and scratched the back of his neck nervously. Him and his big mouth. “Yeah…” he reluctantly voiced. “You’re a demon hybrid like me. Sparda is a demon lord. A powerful one at that,” he muttered. “It is a lot to handle and absorb, since you were raised as a mortal but-” 

“Show me.” 

Dante blinked, perplexed. Were his ears deceiving him? He felt his jaw hang open in awe. “Don’t catch flies, Dante,” Vergil added and gently closed his brother’s mouth with a little more force than necessary. 

A grunt was heard, and Dante swiftly turned only to get two feet kicked into his handsome face. The man flew back, and Vergil gasped quietly as he watched Dante pass by in a quick blur from the impact. 

“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Nero muttered and worriedly glimpsed at his son. “Are you okay?” His eyes sharply glared at Dante, who stood and brushed off the dirt off his red coat. 

“That was an intense first meeting,” Dante joked. He stared back at Nero, who pulled Vergil closer protectively to him. 

“Why are you here, Dante?” Nero growled out and pulled out Blue Rose. Dante held up his hands in surrender. 

“Hey now there, father of time, “ Nero growled at the insult, “I am just merely talking to Vergil. No harm done,” he shrugged. “I think Vergil has the right to know about his true heritage, don't ya think?” He pulled out Ivory and Ebony, two beloved pistols. 

“Father, I’m oka-” 

His voice was washed out by the sound of a bullet being shot. The loud rang buzzed through his ears, and Vergil growled lowly in irritation at the booming sound. His eyes traced the gun smoke and blinked when he saw it was, in fact, his father who shot first. “Hasn’t Sparda taught you to stay away from Vergil? To not break rules?” Nero grounded out. 

Dante spat out the bullet he caught with his perfect teeth and spat it out into Vergil’s rose bush. The teen wiped the corner of his mouth and huffed. “Come on, Nero. Do I look like a man that follows rules?” To further emphasize his point, Dante overly dramatically spun around. 

“Dante…” Vergil said in a tone that hovered between caution and vexation. 

“Hmm, I can say this without sounding offensive, Verge, but your father is hm…” he tapped his chin in mock thought, “... a deadweight,” he finished with a satisfied, smug grin. 

Nero eyes furrowed dangerously and his grip on Blue Rose tightened to the point of his knuckles turning white. “You can shove it up your ass, Dante. You do forget I am your superior.” 

Dante casually shrugged once more and pointed Ivory at him. “Don’t care to remember, gramps.. Dante sighed before a sly grin settled over his face. “Still amusing to hear and witness that stick up your ass, though…” Dante’s cheeky tone only served to add fuel to Nero’s boiling pot of anger. Nero moved to attack Dante, but Vergil’s firm grip on his elbow paused him in place. 

“Vergil, let me go,” Nero commanded. 

Vergil shook his head sternly. “Absolutely not,” he refused sharply. “You are not going to fight each other. You are going to ruin my mother's garden, my tree and my rose bush.” He sighed but did not lighten his hold on the visibly seething Nero. The light orbs swayed around them, and serenity went about as the thick tension hung heavily in the air around the three. Dante placed his weapons back into his holster when Nero put Blue Rose away. 

“I’ll keep my big mouth shut for this one,” Dante said as he picked up the discarded bullet from Vergil’s rose bush. 

“Smart choice,” Nero grunted. 

“I know, right?” Dante agreed teasingly. Nero flipped Dante the bird, and then he turned to smile at his son. His powerful eyes locked onto his Cyan, and he sighed. 

“I’m just glad you’re okay, Vergil. I was troubled by the thought of that asshole over there,” he pointed over his shoulder at coolly collected Dante. 

A displeased sound clawed itself out of Vergil’s throat, and he was oblivious to blue thorn-like horns slowly sprouting across his hairline. Nero and Dante both blinked and tried their best to not stare, but Vergil’s powers, were they connected to his emotions? 

Vergil’s usually spiked hair grew in length in a bit, now brushing just over the nape of his neck, and bangs swept over his eyes. 

“Father,” Verge spoke in an eerily composed tone. “Please. Stop being a damned moron. Dante has not anything stupid yet. I am more than capable of handling anything that life throws at me. And you,” his eyes sharply sliced through Dante, who straightened his posture, “do not ever insult my father again. Or else, I’ll have your head on a silver platter,” he threatened. His dark expression gradually morphed into his usual calm mask as a heavy breath released into the air. “I am going to check on my mother. You two act civil.” Vergil swept his hair back, and the thorns instantly vanished before he had the chance to touch them. He hated having bangs in his eyes, they were really infuriating. Blocked his eyes from reading, too. 

Nero was sharp enough to notice Vergil’s hair going back to its normal length, but as he watched his son depart, Dante whistled to Nero to get his attention. 

“Would you look at that, seems as though Verge got your temper, huh?” Nero’s eyes widened to cosmic saucers as he was met with the sight of blue summoned swords stabbed into the ground around them. “Vergil summoned swords, and he didn’t even know it. Horns and hair changes length when he gets annoyed, which means…” 

“That his powers are connected to his emotions. His powers are awakening…” 

“Diddo,” Dante said. 

They both stood in place, both unsure what to do when Vergil unknowingly left swords in his wake. 

“That dropkick did hurt you know.” 

“Eat shit and die.” 

***

A man with white spiked up hair and piercing green eyes huffed in mild annoyance as he sat at the desk with a bored expression. He fiddled with the hems of his high-collared, white trench coat absentmindedly. His impatience began to consume him as he thumped his fingers against the flat surface of the desk. His brow quirk in indignation as he restlessly waited for his master to show up.

“Now, now, Baul. Do you have to make such an ugly expression?” A man with dark, long hair and soft gold eyes whispered. His face was feminine, almost androgynous. He had pointed ears, akin to those of an elf. His obsidian trench coat covered his body like a protective blanket. A delicate smile stretched his lips as he watched his twin grumble in his seat. 

“Hush Modeus,” Baul said. “Sparda is uncharacteristically late.” His emerald eyes gazed outside, lost in his thoughts. “I just hope that whatever is holding our master up is worth making us late. I cannot surpass him if he doesn’t fucking show up.” 

“You do know he is the ruler for a reason, right?” The black-haired brother asked softly. “He is on top for a reason. Just train to get strong. As I support you, but Sparda is…” 

His words trailed off at the heated glare his brother sent his way, and Modeus sighed in defeat. He knew his words fell onto deaf ears. 

“Just watch me, Modeus! I will gain the power of Sparda and reign!” Baul exclaimed as he clenched his fist with every ounce of determination he held within him. 

The more calm brother simply kept his smile and waited for their master to appear. 

A few peacefully quiet moments passed between the brothers when the door slowly creaked soundly. Emerald and gold eyes turned to face who dared to enter the room, and Sparda offered a polite smile. 

“I do apologize for my tardiness, my students. Someone called me and I could not let the call slip by,” Sparda’s firm yet charming voice informed. He offered an apologetic bow before straightening up once more. Baul scoffed haughty. This action earned a slight scowl from his master. 

“Who called that was so damn important to keep your apprentices waiting?” His annoyed look was directed at the powerful demon, and while his brother was quiet and sending their master sympathetic looks and understanding, Sparda tucked his hands behind his back unfazed by the abrasive behavior. “We’ve been waiting for nearly an hour now.” 

“Ah, I did apologize for that. But if you must know, “ he adjusted his monocle before he resumed his train of words, “It was Nero.” At the mention of Nero’s name, Baul stiffened visibly in his seat. He gritted his teeth in pure dislike for the man mentioned. The twins know who exactly Nero was. Nero was Sparda’s fight partner. The two trained and had a close bond to the point Nero could tease Sparda. Nero was Sparda’s most promising pupil, and was the one Sparda entrusted Vergil too. 

**_The story of Nero_ ** _ : Every one knew. He manifested in hell. Seemingly overnight, the demon hybrid released a carnage that broadcasted over Hell in such a short span of time. Nero’s power was unseen harvested by a hybrid. It was such raw power and everyone witnessed that devil’s power, that rivaled the world’s most evil and ancient powerful beings. Nero toppled over lords that were dominating Hell for centuries. And then he and Sparda met. The two’s battle was so fierce that half of Hell was obliterated. Nero was obstinate to the true meaning, loud and abrasive as one could be with a short-temper as he possessed. The man was cynical and loved to tease and mock his opponents.  _ **_Nobody was safe from Nero’s wrath._ **

“Well, is Nero okay?” Modeus inquired in a caring voice. Sparda’s lips lifted into a kind smile. At least one of them had decency. 

“Yes. He called about my wild son, Dante, running to Earth to meet Vergil,” he explained. The demon king rubbed underneath his chin before beaming at the twins. “While he was not initially thrilled that Dante met Vergil, I got to listen about my long-lost son!” he gushed comically and rubbed his cheeks happily. “Vergil turned out as beautiful as his mother. He has his mother, Eva! A shame he hasn’t connected his demonic side yet, but Nero is raising him to be well-defined!” He sighed dreamily. “The day I can meet my son will make my heart soar.” 

Baul’s eyebrows knitted together. Vergil didn’t know his heritage? That meant Vergil was an easy target. He could easily kill the other Sparda to gain the blood of Sparda and surpass his master! One obstacle that stood in his way of his wretched scheme was Nero. Nero must’ve hid the true background of Vergil’s birth for a reason. He must be overprotective of Sparda’s son. 

“Big deal,” he huffed to himself as he slouched in the back of his seat. He would just have to sneak into the Earth realm, sway Vergil away from Nero, and kill him. If Vergil had no control of his gifted abilities then this will be a cinch. He gave himself a satisfied smirk to himself. Yes, this will help him so much. It was clear Sparda favored Modeus over him. So, if he returns with Sparda’s blood, he’ll be able to kill the demon king and his idiotic son too. 

Modeus’ eyes sparkled happily for his master’s enthusiasm. “I’m ecstatic for you, Master Sparda!” Sparda chuckled and covered his smile behind his hand. His unnatural pale eyes moved over both his apprentices. 

“Thank you kindly, Modeus. Now, Let’s begin training!” 

***

The ardently crimson moon sat at its highest peak in Hell’s forsaken skies. Baul released an exhausted breath as he sat next to his twin. They trained with Sparda for five hours unstop, and they still were unable to land a single hit on their powerful master. Sparda easily parried each of their moves, and when he dismissed them, the man teleported home. 

“His power is surely immeasurable, right brother?” Modeus asked brightly. Baul just grunted and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. 

“I’m going to the Earth realm later,” he said nonchalantly. The white-haired male did not even bother to look at his surprised twin. “I know what you are going to say so save it. No, you cannot come with me. I do hold love for you, brother, but I need to go on a personal mission.” 

Modeus squinted his eyes slightly in comprehension. “You never truly wanted to go to the mortal land. Why now?” he inquired incredulously. “This is not about Vergil, is it?” 

“No,” came Baul’s quick reply. The dark-haired twin shuffled closer to his brother and had a stern look. 

“Do not do anything that will anger our master or harm anyone. You’re on thin ice with Master Sparda as it is.” 

“Whatever,” Baul muttered under his breath. He was a man with a plan.

A plan to kill the human son of Sparda, and take the blood that will ultimately make him surpass his master once and for all. 

***

An ominously dark feeling ran through his body, and Sparda scowled to himself. 

“Someone’s up to something…” he whispered to no one in particular. He was alone in his throne room, signing some documents. “I wonder who…” 

Pale eyes gazed out the window to look over Hell. 

“ **Whoever has the balls to do something reckless to the point I can feel it, it must be threatening to me or my sons,”** his voice had a demonic growl mixed in; an animalistic sound that would scare even the strongest of immortal beings. His eyes darkened. 

“I will get to the bottom of this,” he said as he leaned back in his large plush chair. He recollected himself and hummed thoughtfully. His fingers laced together over his chest and he crossed his legs. Sparda stared up blankly at the ceiling. 

It was only a matter of time before his ignorant son came home. 

Only a matter of time…

**_Only a matter of time…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a matter of time... ;) 
> 
> I'm just gonna say this: Vergil is doomed to be harmed. Not gonna spoil but this will pain me. 
> 
> Dante and Vergil will spend more time together in the upcoming chapters, and together, we will be able to explore his powers developing!


	6. Little Lamb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A recited poem, a single touch of hands, and a walk causes emotions to spiral out of control. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Sparda is shaken by an ominous feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's Vergil. He cannot use his powers but one day he'll find a way. 
> 
> Believe in Vergil.

The sound of boots clicking on stone-cobble streets broke the night's silence. The people of Fortuna had turned in for the night hours ago, leaving the once lively town seemingly deserted. A green-eyed demon placed a glove onto his hand before stepping fully into the moonlight. Emerald eyes scanned the empty streets, his eyes were searching... searching for someone in particular. The sound of his boots continued to cut through the air with heavy intent. He did not stop his walk but something did catch his eye. Illuminated by a beam of moonlight, and its daunting height, was the Tree of Vitae. The vividly tinted leaves beautifully sparkled under the moon's carnival of light. The silver-haired male smirked to himself at the impressive display of power. 

"Not bad. The 'Tree of Vitae'. A power that hasn't been seen around for a couple millennia," His baritone hushed softly. Who he is searching for is right within his grasp. So, his ears didn't deceive him. The human wearing sheep's clothing truly was here in the mortal realm. He grinned deviously at the memory of Sparda gushing over his other son. 

His fingers brushed over the hilt of his sheathed blade by his hip. He inhaled the air deeply, and the faint scent of sea salt and herbs mingled with gardenias assaulted his nose. But the scent of an individual bled through strongly, a pungent scent that could not easily be mistaken; a scent that could only belong to one person. Abeit, he never personally met the other Sparda spawn, but the confused essence of Sparda could never be taken wrongfully. The demon tilted his head to analyze an aqua-colored petal that innocently was carried with the wind next to him. After a few contemplating moments, he resumed his pursuit. His smile slowly twisted into a delighted demon-revealing smirk. 

"The Sparda power will be mine." he ignored the nauseating incense of both Dante and Nero's darkly spiced scents. No one, not even them, not even Sparda himself, will get in between him and his diabolic plan. 

***

"You're lucky I didn't shoot you and mount your head on my wall," Nero murmured. The owner of 'Devil May Cry' crossed his arms over his chest as he directed his dark glower towards the unwelcomed Dante. 

"And you're lucky Verge stopped the fight, otherwise, you would've been eating grass face-first," Dante shot back confidently with a lopsided, cocky grin. 

The two sat across from each other with only an oval coffee table keeping them apart. Nero bared his unnaturally sharp teeth at the younger Demon slayer, who sported a shit-eating grin. 

"How you two are getting along is merry," Kyrie's kind voice piped up sarcastically. She stood from her spot next to Nero and brushed off the invisible dirt from her white gown. "Can you two manage not to kill each other, as I help Vergil prepare dinner?" The auburn-haired woman inquired with an incredibly pointed look. her honey-like eyes darted purposely back and forth between the two devils. 

"Oh, Kyrie, I'm not a child," Nero scoffed but held his affectionate tone for his wife. He added, "I cannot speak for 'Big Red' over there though." He then proceeded to flip the teen off. 

Kyrie sighed tiredly as she ushered herself out of the living room to help her beloved son in the kitchen. She was quite dubious those two could control themselves in a peaceful manner. When two stubborn people are in the same room, it truly was like talking to a wall. 

"Fuck you," Dante whispered petulantly in the softest voice he could possibly muster. The teen leaned over and placed his elbows onto the flat surface of the table, cupping his face between his hands as he batted his eyelashes dramatically up at Nero. 

"Seriously, eat shit and die," Nero gruffed out. 

Meanwhile, Kyrie stood next to the soundless Vergil. She watched the obviously puzzled silver-haired teen slice an unfortunate carrot with much force than necessary. The sharp knife deeply slashed through the ingredient and left permanent scratches in the wooden cutting board resting below it. 

"Vergil," Kyrie called out quietly in a motherly tone. "I know this is a lot to absorb but I'm here. Your father, Lady, and now Dante-" 

"It is," Vergil said in a strained tone. He would never raise his voice at his mother, but the conflicting emotions were chaining around him, constricting any piece of serenity and understanding he previously held. 

Inner turmoil brewed. He fought with his inner thoughts. Vergil has been keeping his feelings on a shelf his entire life so far, but... 

_**How long will they stack until they fall?** _

Azure thorns crept over the crown of his head at the pace of a snail from his emotions raging a storm internally. He blankly gazed ahead as he expertly cut the remaining for his famous beef stew. 

His mother worriedly watched her son's emotional battle from the outside, unsure how she could possibly help her beloved boy. Her almond-shaped hues could only observe the horns that protruded from Cyan's head as they glowed with dark ambition. The room's lightening flickered briefly, and Kyrie had to blink rapidly to regain her vision. She silently exhaled a bated breath and decided to change the subject in hopes to soothe Verge. 

"Want me to get you anything?" She offered her aid lovingly. After a pregnant pause, and the lights stopped their annoying flickering, she tried again. "Sweetie?" 

Without a single glance towards her, he gave a stiff nod in response. His face was a devoid of emotion. 

"Okay, I'll go do that!" Kyrie ushered herself hurriedly out of the gloomy kitchen. She entered the living room and blinked owlishly at the sight she was currently witnessing: 

Nero was holding Dante's head in a strong head lock. Dante did not seem at all at a discomfort, given his wicked grin displayed on his lips. Nero growled in annoyance but immediately paused in his struggle when he noticed Kyrie had returned. 

"K-Kyrie!" her husband comically sputtered his shock, and he instantly released Dante from his grasp. 

"Kinky," Dante teased. He stretched his limbs until he heard a satisfying pop. 

"Kyrie? Is everything okay?" Nero asked softly before he stood and pulled his wife towards his chest. Her face broke into one of distress. 

"It's just Vergil," her voice was muffled by a powerful chest. "He has these horns coming from his head and he seems to be drowning himself in his own reserve. Painfully so!" She wrapped her arms tightly around her lover and buried her face deeper in his chest and inhaled his comforting scent. 

"I'll go-" 

"No," Dante cut in. "I'll go check on the moody Verge. After all, your wife could use your comfort. This is hard for you both." His voice took a serious edge to it. "Stay here." 

Nero frowned but his hold around Kyrie tightened. He just had to have faith in Dante just this once. Reluctantly, he nodded to the young devil. 

Still rooted in his spot in the kitchen, Vergil impassively kept his slicing the various vegetables, oblivious to his growing horns. He scowled when silver bangs fell into his cerulean eyes. He guessed the nuisance of bangs will just have to remain until he's finished. 

""'Little Lamb who made thee?"' Dante's charming voice quoted softly from the doorway he was currently leaning on. He had his strong arms resting by his sides as his hands were buried into his pockets. A faint smile lit up his handsome, pristine features that could make anyone breathless. The taller twin of the two had to muffle his amused chuckle when Vergil's head swiveled so fast he thought his head was gonna fall off his neck. He continued despite Vergil's empty expression. "Does thou know made thee?" 

Vergil's soft lips parted slightly but swiftly closed in a tight line. Dante knew William Blake?

"Gave thee life and bid thee feed," Vergil recited in a tone so carefully measured, so delicate that Dante mentally had to slap himself. Thanks for his superior hearing skills, he was able to hear the other. He watched with mirth as Vergil's ears perked up and the human-raised demon placed the knife gingerly onto the cutting board. His mirroring eyes were enraptured by Dante's. Poor Vergil's heart rate increased and he was surprisingly caught off guard.

Presumably, he thought Dante was a fool who spewed unpredictable and foolishness nuisance whose actions rivaled his stupidity. Perhaps not. 

Dante's sharp eyes viewed closely as the protruding horns gradually began to recede. They leisurely coiled and moved in backward movements before, finally, they disappeared entirely. 

Two voices bled into one. "By the steam and o'er the mead, gave thee clothing wooly bright." Dante shifted closer to the smaller demon. Their eyes locked. "Gave thee such a tender voice..." they whispered in unison. Dante soon hovered over Vergil, who had to crane his neck to look up at him. Vergil's expression was unreadable. It seemed the most beautiful always were the most mysterious. 

Vergil brought a gloved hand up to cover the bottom portion of face. He snickered softly. 

Dante grinned. "What's funny, Verge?" His grin impossibly widened at Vergil's poorly hidden, faint smile. 

"I previously thought you were 80% idiocy and 20% of poor humor. But your brain seems to be actually functioning. Though your stupidity rivals that of a rock," he chuckled at his own words. 

"Well, let me know when my stupidity percentage increases," Dante joked wholeheartedly and hummed when the length of Vergil's hair returned to its normal length. Though, bangs still fell into his eyes. 

"81%," Vergil teased coolly. 

"Hey!" Dante exclaimed, and Vergil once more snickered. "What did I do?" 

"Being near me," Verge said. The blue-eyed teen sighed softly as he carefully tossed the various ingredients into the large, stainless steel cooking pot with practiced ease. The water splashed in the pot and the liquid rippled like a disturbed river or rain puddle. 

Dante's nostrils flared up when a sweet scent kissed his nose. The aroma of sweetened lavender and peppermint blended alluringly with sugared, vanilla rosemary. 

Dante knew it was not the ingredients Vergil used for his stew but Vergil's natural scent itself. 

  
The dominant demon's pupils dilated as Vergil's elated scent blessed his senses. Blood rushed rapidly to his lower regions and he had to awkwardly shift his body to prevent a noticeable hard-on. His skin's temperature was increasing in temperature and saliva was pooling inside his mouth. 

"May you hand me the olive oil?" Vergil asked. The sound of his voice snapped Dante's body back to reality and he had to get a quick grip on his libido. 

"Sure," Dante hummed as he casually handed the other the small glass bottle of the needed ingredient. Their hands brushed together delicately, but Vergil's hand lingered for a moment. A rush of romantic chemicals tingled up Dante's spine, and he saw a blush creep up Vergil's pale face. The softest of touch of their hands made Dante feel as though the world had stopped. The feathery touch made his extremities tingle with a warm sensation, and his heart raced uncontrollably in his chest. Time and space shifted into emptiness, and it truly felt as though his universe began and ended with Vergil. Dante had to resist the urge to interlock their hands. It was a magical feeling that ghosted all over his skin. A thrill of hormones elevated from both parties, and Vergil's grew more thickly into the air around them. 

Dante felt a deep desire stir within, like a physical pull that demanded him to be flush against the smaller male. Vergil looked away too quickly. 

"90% idiocy," Vergil grunted out while he looked everywhere but Dante. The entire kitchen smelt of lavender dancing in sugar-kissed rosemary. The heat in Dante sparked strongly; he was being shrouded by a misty cloud of desire. His eyes darkened briefly and through the lustful haze, Vergil's voice sliced through him. 

"WHAT?!" 

***

"Is this your first visit to Fortuna, Dante?" Vergil inquired with genuine curiosity laced in his silky voice. His eyes watched Dante place his now empty bowl into the sink for later cleaning. The ceramic loudly clanked as it bumped into Vergil's discarded bowl. The metal soups clicked against the bowls' rims, soundly announcing their presence. Dante absentmindedly brushed his fingertips against the granite of Kyrie's kitchen as his eyes thoughtfully stared at the brownish-colored mineral.

His eyes slowly dragged themselves to gaze upon the heavenly face of his smaller twin, and he replied honestly. "This is actually my first visit to the Mortal Realm in general." He shrugged carelessly as he awkwardly fiddled with the dirtied spoons in the sink. "In Hell, there aren't anything that truly holds beauty. Just endless screams from the darkest abyss, and the aimlessly wandering souls of the damned. Hell is half destroyed anyways from two powerful demons battling it out. Let's just say there is no scenery to leave you breathless," he rubbed the back of his neck with uncertainty, perhaps shame. "People consider Hell to be boiling, but it's freezing. Colder than death itself." He moved to clean out his cup that he barely took a sip out of. He watched the beverage pour into the sink, and pool around the carefully placed dishes. It would appear to be something fascinating haven't Dante had been trying to avoid looking at the other. "Bare lands of deserted life, rotten fruits selfishly suck up the trees' little chances of possible growth, and the pungent, unforgettable scent of decaying flesh hovers in the air relentlessly. It is a dimension I have no care for, to be honest. But I gotta please Daddy dearest," he smirked at his own joke.

"While that does sound like a pleasant place for a family vacation," Vergil said sarcastically, and caused Dante to let out a genuine, pleasant laugh, "how about I tour you around Fortuna? it is usually dead at this time of hour, but that doesn't make the views any less appealing." Dante smiled at the offer.

"I would like that very much," he said quietly. Nero's head comically poked into the kitchen and he gave a deathly glare at Dante. A warning glare.

"Father," Vergil turned to face Nero fully, "I'm going to take Dante on a stroll through town. We should return within an hour." Nero's face paled and he stepped into the kitchen.

"Uh, alone? Just you two? Cyan, what if he tries to pull something? I can come along to protect you -" Vergil waved his father's worries off. He laughed softly.

"Father, I'm seventeen. I do not need your protection. I fought off a wolf alone. But if it will appease you, I will have your number on speed dial, okay?" He kissed his father's cheek affectionately. "We'll be back soon, okay?" he said. Nero hesitantly nodded. The man knew he could not keep Vergil locked away forever, and he knew Vergil and Dante would meet eventually, it just pained him immensely that the day came so soon. Too soon in fact.

"Catch ya later," Dante called out and waved goodbye to Nero as the two of them walked past as he was lost in his own mind. Nero scowled.

"Fuck off," he said towards Dante bitterly. He could only stand helplessly as he watched his beloved son exit the sanctuary of their shared home with that asshole. His fingers twitched with the powerful urge to call Nico and ask her to spy on them, but that would be a huge invasion of trust and respect towards his baby boy. With a defeated sigh, the father simply sat down at the kitchen table alone and thought about a plethora of things. Unspeakable things.

***

Soft town lights sparkled brilliantly through a pair of billowing taffeta curtains. Phosphorus moonlight spilled over the sleeping town, blanketing it an azure hue. There wasn't a single cloud in the star-speckled sky aboce, and the milky eve was completely expressed in the dark sky above. Rows of towering buildings, and a domed Church stretched above them, some alight from within. The full moon hovered at the fringes of the luminous landscape of Fortuna. The fog softened the hard lines of the buildings, and diffused the orange glow of sodium-vapor street lamps. 

Two separate souls walked down the unwinding street of cobble stone together. Red and blue contrasted drastically, clashing at one another, but yet, they moved together in harmony. Dante walked beside Vergil, who pointed to the domed building. "That's the church of Fortuna. it is told be over 200 years old. The hand-crafted architecture is absolutely divine. To think man had the capabilities to create such beauty with just one tool and stone, is remarkable." 

His eyes reflected the glittering ocean beautifully, and Dante had to remember to breathe. Dante's eyes scanned over the old buildings, and mentally noted how well they were taken of. 

"In Fortuna, everyone loves to garden surprisingly. As you can see all the vibrantly nourished flowers and gardens," he did a grand sweep of his hand to point out the lavished gardens. The grasses were every shades of a meadow's dream, rare buttercups became tinted silvery blue from the beams of the moon, and the plants were a shade brighter from the kind light. Flower beds were riots of May color. The flowers were artistic and so carefree that Dante had to take a moment to admire them. He only ever saw such pretty plants in books from his childhood when Sparda taught him or read him stories to help him sleep. 

"Dante," Vergil's soft tone called, and he snapped his head to come face to face with a very close Vergil. "May we continue?" He asked. Dante nodded and he blushed. He got to get a good look at Vergil's face up close and by God, he was perfect. How could a demon appear so angelic? He sighed and soundlessly followed his tour guide. So far, Fortuna was a beautiful town. No wonder why Nero chose to raise Vergil here. It was peaceful despite the occasional demon attacks. 

But hey, that's everywhere for you. 

"So, care to tell me about Sparda?" Verge asked curiously. Dante blinked at the question as it took a moment to process through his fogged mind. It was hard to put two thoughts together when he was so close to Vergil. A demonic instinct of being so close to one he desired was not one to mess with. Sheesh, being a teen was hard as fuck. Even more challenging than being his father's war general in Hell. 

"Well," Dante scratched the light stubble on his cheek as he thought about his father. "He has the same hair color and eye color as you and I. He is a seven-foot tall devil that rules fairly but he can be unforgiving at times. He only ever loved one woman through his entire life, and he can sure be a helicopter father at times. He likes the color purple a lot, and he is very resilient. Never saw the old man lose a fight or get knocked down for that matter. He likes to write and tell me about old adventures of his youthful days. But the old man sure is a legend on a battle field. He once put an end to a demonic civil war just by showing up! I've never seen so many demons run with their tails between their legs. Sparda can be funny at times, He thinks his dad jokes are the most hilarious things in the world, and he strangely likes poetry. It can be quite nerve-wrecking when he is silent, you just never know what is going through his head." Vergil's face remained collected as he absorbed the information about his biological father. His walking pace matched Dante's and the two walked in synced steps. 

"He sounds like an admirable man. After all, he raised a handsome devil such as yourself," he said flirtatiously. But he made sure his voice was so low that Dante could not hear him. 

Dante smiled gracefully. "Yeah, my father is something else. What about yours?" He paused in his strolling to look at Vergil. Vergil tapped his chin and hummed thoughtfully. 

"My father is an obstinate man. It's either his way or the highway, in a basic sense. People of Fortuna look up to him for his valor and strength. It is like he has the strength of a hundred men. He likes magazines and fixing Nico's van in the garage. He hums rock-metal songs to himself when he works, and he feeds the homeless freely. Never did I see the man turn anyone away. He loves to spend time with the kids from the orphanage, and of course, he tries to take up all my time. He sometimes forgets the prospects of personal space, and can be socially awkward at times, even antisocial in general. But he is loyal warrior that is completely devoted to his work and family. I admire him in every way one can a man." 

"He is an asshole to me though," Dante whined. The submissive demon chuckled at the other's disdain. 

"He just doesn't like you," Vergil shrugged. "Can't say I blame him though." 

"You're one icy fuck, you know that Verge?" 

"Is that an adverb or an adjective?" 

Both shared a small laugh. 

"Well, let's wrap this tour up before my father has a heart attack," Vergil said. 

"Nero seems to be overly protective of you. Why is that?" 

Vergil shrugged. "He just always has been. One time, this boy down the street asked me on a date. I was around the pubescent age. Perhaps twelve. It was snowing and the boy ran up our house. I never heard such a timid knock before, but when my father answered the door, the kid peed himself. My father scared him off immediately. He did the same with many suitors.." he chuckled with amusement. "My father is quite the character." 

The two walked in comfortable silence as they weaved their way through the quiet streets of Fortuna. Dante got see mountains that kissed the sky, smelt the sea salt-scented air, see the types of buildings people lived in. And, of course, Vergil's favorite place of all: The library. 

The library was redbrick, Victorian, sitting self-importantly on the highest peak of Fortuna. The building watched over the town itself as if it was its protector. Vergil pushed the heavy-weighted door with ease and guided Dante inside. Row after row of neatly lined up books with their spines facing outward, colour coded with dots, fiction section arranged in alphabetical order, young adults section, children's section with low shelves and floor cushions, comfortable leather arm chairs, tables for quiet study, muffled stillness, librarian at help desk, hushed atmosphere punctured by the occasional night breeze. The floor was covered with tiles that were created like a chessboard. 

"Isn't it after hours?" Dante asked. "Isn't this trespassing?"  
  


"Foolishness, Dante. I'm close acquaintances with the librarian. I have the privilege to come here any time I desire," Vergil scoffed smugly. 

Both paused when a tired yawn echoed through the spacious building. Twin pair of blue eyes shifted towards the direction the sound emerged from. 

"Vergil?" The librarian yawned out again. The man had a youthful round face, and dark unkempt hair which had the sides shaved. The man stood around six-feet tall, and he had a distinct scar going across right eyebrow and cheek. His tired eyes were a grayish blue. A dark-hooded coat was draped over his physique and he licked his lips. "Why are you here?" he asked groggily. He wiped his left eye with the back of hand and blinked away any remaining sleep from them. 

"Good evening. Sorry to disturb you, but I just wanted to show Dante the best place of Fortuna," he said with a satisfied smirk.

The dark-haired man smirked back and walked down the spiral of staircase with cautious steps. "Ah, I see. I appreciate the compliment. Flattery will get you everywhere with me, Vergil," he flirted. "Amusing enough, your guest and I share the same first name. How come you never offer to take me anywhere?" the dark-haired Dante teased. 

"Because you call our reading sessions dates on the daily basis," Vergil rolled his eyes. The silver-haired Dante felt a pang of jealously twist his insides, and he mindfully pushed himself in front of Vergil and away from the other. 

"Nice to meet you, but Verge and I gotta get going! Catch you on the flip side!" he exclaimed, and ushered Vergil out of the library. The black-haired man stood frozen in his spot as he tried to process what the hell just happened.

"Let's get you home, Verge! I need to go home, too!" he hurriedly exclaimed as he guided Vergil through the sleeping town at an inhumane speed. 

***

Sparda calmly stared at the flickering candle that stayed alight in the upper corner of his desk. The demon lord sighed tiredly as he restlessly fidgeted in his plush chair. Something was not right. Some ominous feeling spread through him like uncontrollable waves, and the King of Hell could not get over it. He rested his chin over his folded his hands and thought to himself. 

Whatever was going to happen, it has to be close to him. Something daunting and darkly promising of pain and turmoil is leering its ugly head around his turf, and Sparda was far from pleased. 

"Please come home soon, my son," he whispered hollow words as he trembled from the overwhelming dark emotions that claimed him. Darkness enveloped his throne room mockingly, taunting the king to remind him that he was helpless. Whatever is going to occur will take its course, and Sparda is going to have to watch it all unwind. 

Unnatural pale eyes watched dancing flame for one more moment before he slid them shut. He wordlessly waited for Dante's return. 

Maybe his son felt the same veiled emotion and visions as he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Poem that was recited was "THE LAMB" by William Blake. 
> 
> And yes, Dante from DmC is the librarian. xD He flirts with Vergil, who just brushes it off as friendly. The two talk about books a lot and he is the other friend of Verge's. He tends to stay away from Vergil's house because of Nero. Lol


	7. Fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can fly.

Fingers twitched with the overwhelmingly powerful urge to rip the door off the hinges and adventure out to find his son. But the man buried the urges deep within him since he had to respect his son’s decision and wish. Cloudy, blue hues locked persistently onto the front door as the silver-haired man paced back and forth leisurely with purpose. He circled around the living area like a predator circling its captured prey. Nero shifted his glove on his hand to hopefully distract himself but the fruitless attempt was all for naught. His eyes darted rapidly between his torn glove and the untouched door. 

Kyie had long retired to be bed, and that left Nero alone to wait for his son’s return. He felt as though he was wasting away in the dimly lit living room, the eerily dead silence felt so suffocating. The strong impulse to just open the door became too strong, and Nero swiftly found his hand tightly gripping the metal doorknob in his unyielding grasp. The blue-eyed adult sighed quietly in self-disappointment that he easily gave into such a gnawing urge. Nero always, always, even in the least lethal situations, drove into his overprotective instincts when it came to Vergil. Kyrie always supported Vergil’s independent personality, and she lovingly pushed their son to learn things his own way, but Nero… 

He knew better. Kyrie was not as knowledgeable about demonic instincts and the lowly demons that heartlessly attack innocent lives. Vergil, since he was an infant, always attracted the undesired and ominous attention of lurking demons. All because of his blood-relation to Sparda. Hell’s traitor. The demon who raised his blade against his own demon brethren to protect humanity. Do not get Nero wrong, he loved every aspect of Vergil’s obstinate and independent personality, but Vergil could be reckless at times. Not that it was his fault entirely. His beloved son had no control over his demon powers or devil trigger form yet. Hell, he did not even know about it yet. The demons were drawn to Vergil like a moth to a kindling flame. The teen was a pure demon, one that was a total virgin and oblivious to his strong powers and linkage. The older demon only desired his son to have a fulfilling life of joy and normalcy. Nothing like the dreadful and bleak life Nero had the awful opportunity to endure. The deafening silence was slowly getting to him, not even the clock ticked its seconds. He released the now dented doorknob and tsked. 

His eyes slowly scanned over the dark living space at a lethally slow pace, as if it pained him to be there alone. A twinge of pain sprouted through his aching heart, and Nero exhaled slowly as his anxious levels were increasing. Each moment passed by too slowly, drawing itself out in a mocking way. Nero slumped his body onto the plush, velvet sofa. 

“Cyan…” he whispered to no one in particular. His melancholy tone held much wistfulness, and his eyes solemnly locked onto the still closed door. Knowing his son was out there with the infuriating Dante only pained him more. Nero nervously fiddled with his thumbs as he impatiently waited for his son’s return. 

Seconds turned into minutes. But he stayed in the same slouched position, eyes never wavered from the door. His eyelids began to get heavy with oncoming fatigue, and he shook his head to brush off the pulling sensation of sleep. Bile rose in the back of his throat as dark thoughts began to plague his mind a plenty. Various whispers spewing the worst outcomes, trying to make his worry eat him alive. 

**_What if he left you for Sparda?_ **

No. Verge wouldn’t. 

**_Why would he want to stay with you, who hid his entire existence from him?_ **

He had to for his protection. 

**_He seemed to like Dante quite a bit. Wouldn’t be surprised if he was persuaded to abandon you._ **

Fuck Dante. That would be a foolish mistake. 

**_Vergil could cease to exist._ **

Don’t leave me. 

Nero was incarcerated by such mental walls. He felt as though he was imprisoned and banished within a nexus of his own fears. The demon-hybrid bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, and everything around him darkened. Such fears being muttered into painful words were torturing his current thoughts and would poison his dreams later tonight. An unsettling feeling in his stomach began to rise and distract him from his heartrending reverie. The whole night felt like an agonizing nightmare. The moon was pouring through the opened door way, and Nero was fighting his demons. 

“Father?” Vergil called out softly. A voice spoke to him. Nero’s eyes widened as he registered whose voice it was. “You look pale,” his son’s soothing voice added worriedly, and he moved to sit next to his motionless father. “Are you ill?” Vergil scowled and carefully placed his hand against his father’s forehead. “You feel cold,” he noted. “Want me to make you some tea?” No reply. “Father?”

“You’re back,” Nero breathed. Vergil’s face remained calmly composed but his eyebrow raising was a good indicator that he was bewildered at Nero’s words. 

“Of course. I’m not gonna leave you. You always hold the door open for me. I’ll never leave you, even if I fade from view.” Speaking of which, Verge stood and closed the door with a gentle push. The clicking sound of the lock filled the air with noise, and Nero stood too. “You alright?” He inquired as Nero moved closer to him. The teen gasped ever so quietly as he felt strong arms wrap him in a warm, tight embrace. Nero rested his chin on top of his son’s swept back hair and inhaled deeply. He felt all his inner demon drown at the mere return of his beloved son. The light of the room appeared to have lightened a bit, and the thick atmosphere simmered out. “Father?” He heard his son call him in a confused voice. 

“I just want to hold you,” Nero replied warmly. There was a dream-like quality threading through his deep voice, and Vergil blushed lightly. The smaller demon-hybrid slowly returned his father’s embrace and rested his cheek against his shoulder. “I had a fear you were pissed at me from well,” he hesitated for a fleeting second, “not telling you everything about your origins, about Dante, about everything…” he pulled back to create direct eye contact with his quietly listening son. “I wanted to protect you. I still do.” 

Vergil was wordless for a moment too long, his eyes just pinned his father in the spot in front of him. “Father,” he said carefully, “You’re my favorite person in the world,” Nero’s face brightened, “but don’t get a big head now. I think Dante’s stupidity is rubbing off on you. Maybe we should do something about that,” he chuckled at his father’s chagrin. Verge tightened his hold around the larger male briefly releasing his father. “Don’t fool yourself.” 

Nero smiled tenderly, and his son looked away abashedly. “Okay, I shouldn’t let my fears encase me, Cyan. But I am truly sorry for keeping everything from you. Please know that Yamato won’t be yours until 18 though.” 

Vergil hummed thoughtfully as his eyes were analyzing his father’s body language. “That’s fine. You wanted to protect me, and I have a quiet life because of you and mother’s efforts. I do think it is time to spread my wings and learn about my heritage, though. I don’t even know what I am. Would you be willing to teach me, father?” He gazed up at Nero from underneath his long, ashen eyelashes. “I’ll wait for Yamato, as promised, and I won’t ask you about Hell until my next birthday, but at least share with me through you. Talk to me about your past,” he suggested. 

Nero was thrown in a loop momentarily before he recollected himself. “Talk to you about my past?” he asked in utter disbelief. “I mean there isn’t much to discuss.” his tone grew more stern. 

“That’s a lie,” Vergil disagreed boldly. “You never wanted to tell me about anything regarding your past. Out of anyone, don’t I have a right to know about it?” 

“Drop it, Vergil,” Nero hissed. Anger was starting to claw beneath the surface of his calm demeanor. He straightened to his full height, towering over his son. “We are not discussing this.” He said in a way that Vergil was not pleased with. His son stood toe-to-toe with him, comical how different their height differences were. But no matter how much his father towered over him, Vergil still stood tall and mighty as he always did. Their eyes were in a locked battle, neither one backing down. 

“I simply wanted to hear a bit of your past so I can know a bit more of my father. How you knew Sparda, how you were when you were my age. To hear details about demons so I have a better understanding of myself.” 

“No. That’s final,” Nero denied curtly. His tone cut off any words that were dancing on Vergil’s tongue, and they died down his throat at his father’s authority voice. He scowled up at the taller man. “Vergil, I said when you turn eighteen. That has not changed just because Dante crashed into your life.”

“Bullshit,” Vergil cursed bluntly. Nero’s eyes widened slightly at the use of foul language. His son was not the one to use profanity, especially not to him of all people. 

“My past has nothing to do with you,” Nero’s voice was steely. It sliced through the younger of the two, but Vergil did not allow his weakness to show. That happened a bit too much these past few days. 

“Nothing to do with me?” Vergil repeated back angrily, though his voice did not rise in its volume. “It has EVERYTHING to do with me!” he declared. The blue-eyed teen scowled deeper and shook his head in defeat. “I want to know about you, about me, just don’t I deserve some inkling of information?” His words were somber, thoughtful, and vulnerable. 

“Do not shout while your mother’s sleeping,” Nero’s voice took a brusque turn. He was beginning to grow agitated at this topic. “I’d rather talk about my past, Cyan. Please,” he pinched the bridge of his nose to stop an oncoming headache, “just drop it. I agree that you deserve to know about your heritage and how you came to be, but it is too dangerous for you right now! At least try to develop your strength so we can be the least prepared! Gaining knowledge always has evil stalking behind it! I don’t want anything to happen to you! I would lose my shit if you were harmed because of me exposing secrets! Vergil!” His father’s voice cracked a bit from his temper surfacing. “Why won’t you just have faith in me? I know what is best, you do not want to get involved with this ominous knowledge. It will bring harm, and I’m trying to protect you!” The taller demon huffed a hot breath to relieve some building internal tension. His eyes immediately noticed the sharp, glowing, blue horns around Vergil’s head. Vergil was pissed. 

“I have a feeling you’re just protecting yourself, father. Now please, I’m going to turn in for the night. Night,” he brushed past his father, and Nero stood from his spot. That was their first argument they ever truly had. Sure there were ones when Verge was a toddler but they were childish arguments. The faint sound of Vergil’s footsteps going up the steps were washed out by Nero’s racing emotions. The sounds faded, and he was alone once more. 

This was a serious one. His heart broke in his chest at the fact that his beloved son was pissed off royally at him. He truly was just trying to protect him. Kyrie and Vergil were all Nero had in this bleak, heartless world. In the brutal reality, Kyrie was mortal. Nero was gonna outlive her, and she could die from natural or sicknesses at any moment. Vergil… he was a hybrid, he would live as long as he willed. He was so precious to Nero, and he could not lose him. 

“Fucking idiot,” Nero cursed at himself and shook his head solemnly. He collapsed onto the couch and an exhausted hand down his face before staring up at the ceiling. “Parenting is hard,” he mumbled grumpily. He never argued with Vergil until dumbass Dante came into the picture. 

Nero slept dreamlessly on the couch that night. 

***

Vergil sat on his bed upright as his eyes blankly gazed at the moon that hung full and hazy beneath an eclipse of blazing stars, gifting him the view of the dreary rooftops of identical buildings surrounding his home. A rattled sigh escaped past his lips, and his exhaled breath fogged up his window in the process. He rested his chin on the palm of his hand and his eyes connected the constellations uncovered by the clouds. Guilt weighted on his heart as he mentally traced the argument he had with this father, replaying the words over and over again. Maybe he shouldn’t have said what he said, but he was sick of just not knowing. Sure he only found out a few days ago, but the feeling of being different always was there. At first, he thought it was just him lacking confidence. But he had more endurance than the other kids, his speed surpassed even the best track racers of his school. He never lost an arm-wrestling match with anyone, even people who were double his size. The evidence was always dangling in front of his face, just out far beyond his reach. 

He fished out his phone from his side pocket and glanced down at his dark screen. His phone clicked as he typed in his password, and the phone unlocked immediately. He scrolled through his contact list until he landed on Lady’s name. He tapped the message icon and began to text his message. 

**Composed Message** : Lady, can you do me a favor of meeting me on my rooftop? 

He hit send and looked out to the night scene of his town. His phone buzzed, notifying Vergil of a received message. He knew it was late, close to two in the morning, but Lady was nocturnal. 

He opened the message with a glide of his finger and hummed at the response. 

**Lady** : Sure. Be there in 10. 

Vergil carefully placed his phone in his pants pocket before crawling closer to the window sill. The silver-haired teen’s extremities tingle with odd coldness as he pushed his window up. Vergil, with practiced ease, crawled out the window and safely managed to sit on his rooftop. He leaned against his arms that rested behind him; the palm of his hands flat against the rough texture of the roof tiles. He could feel the roughness dig into his skin, most likely leaving indents on his hands, but he didn’t care. His eyes gazed in awe at the spheres of burning ivory that danced across the milky eve. 

He studied the glow of the moon as she sat high in her counsel. He tilted his head to look more upward, eyes more open than they are in the fullest of day. He was not looking at one star, yet he could see them all at once. He could not tear his gaze away. 

The eerie darkness of tonight and the vast amount will never leave Vergil’s mind. Sequin-silver stars like the scattered embers of a dying fire winked down at the troubled teen, illuminating the atramentous curtain of sky. . He was currently alone and felt as though nothing from his life could touch him, but why did he feel so hollow? 

Time slowly overlapped itself as he waited. Thoughts flooded through his days bewildered mind, spreading like wildfire. 

_ If I have powers, what if I never control them? Would I harm my mother? My father? Is my father really that upset with me? Why do I feel so conflicted?  _

_ My head hurts. Make the pain stop.  _

_ Does Yamato yearn for me like I do for her? Am I weak? I want to get strong to protect my parents, Lady, and myself.  _

_ Am I overreacting? Underreacting? Do I just never speak to Dante again? _

“Vergil, I’m here,” Lady announced as she held her black bag over her shoulder. Her heterochromia eyes cast down to observe her friend stargazing. “What’s up, butterup? Lady snickered as Vergil shot her annoyed look at the nickname. The raven-haired woman sat down to Verge, their knees bumped together. “Is the Ice Princess having trouble in paradise? Is it Dante?” 

Vergil remained silent for a long moment. He absorbed her questions and slowly turned to face her. He turned his upper body as he leaned his weight on his one hand, the other moved to rest over his lap. 

“Do you think I could ever be like my father?” he asked genuinely in a breathless voice. Lady’s mismatched eyes blinked owlishly as she tried to register the question. 

“Like your father? You are just like him. Cynical, an asshole-”

“Okay -”

“-Smartass, sarcastic, but yet you’re kind and have a soothing presence about you,” she finished with a small smirk. “What is this about, Vergil? Your father will argue with you, it is natural. You aren’t a toddler anymore. You will have disagreements, and I do think he is trying to protect you. Look at my fat- bastard of a man, when he discovered demon powers...” 

Vergil winced as he remembered the gruesome crime committed towards Lady’s mother for power. The bald, madman still has not been brought to justice. He locked eyes with her. “He kept his demon heritage from me. My own heritage. I’m supposed to be the stronger one, but he always proves that theory wrong. I asked him about his past and he snapped,” he explained quietly. His eyes darkened with a slight somber glaze. “I thought if he spoke about his past, I could get some little strings about my bloodline. About Sparda and Dante. But he seems to not want to discuss it. He says it is to protect me, b-but…” he clutched his knee tightly to calm himself down. Lady’s eyes watched the movement and she tenderly placed her hand over her friend’s clenched one. Her thumb delicately brushed over the white-turned knuckles in a soothing gesture. “Maybe it is best I don’t know about my heritage. My life was perfectly fine without knowing. Sure it fills a few loops in about me being different, but I would like to meet Sparda. To see what I am capable of.” 

“What about Dante?” She asked. 

“What about him?”

“The idiot literally broke the treaty between Nero and Sparda, left Hell, and risked getting injured by your father just to see you.” she said carefully, choosing her words wisely. “When I was on a night patrol, I met him. He tried to offer help, but I sensed the demonic blood through him, and so I shot at him. But something lingered in his eyes, it was as though he was analyzing me with familiarity. Then…” she trailed off as she offered a faint, kind smile to Verge, “he asked about you. I was defensive and asked how he knew about you, but then when I got a good look at his face, I saw the identical resemblance. He looked a bit more mature than you, and more muscular, but I cannot deny the facts, Vergil. He just smirked at me, and asked if you got your stubbornness from Nero,” she said. “He pissed me off,” she mumbled but kept her hold onto Vergil’s hand. 

“I cannot control what Dante does, but he seems to be the meddling type and does whatever his free will desires him to,” Vergil sighed. “I know he will be around,” he added in a hushed voice. 

“So, in other words, you don’t mind him bothering you?” 

“As if,” Vergil scoffed. He rolled his cerulean eyes. The moonlight lit up his sapphire hues, and Lady stared agape. “What?” he inquired awkwardly when he noticed her stare. 

“Your eyes are so blue, it is hard to look away,” she said truthfully, and Verge snickered. 

“Thank you,” he bit sarcastically and stood. He helped her up and wrapped his arms loosely around her slender figure in a light hug. “Thanks for coming out here with me, Lady. I really appreciate it.” He released her from his embrace and offered a slight smile. A crack of one. “I want to be as strong as my father, if I may admit. I want to gain control of my powers, and when he is ready, learn about myself. When Yamato becomes mine, I will cherish the blade with the richest affection. Might controls everything, and without it, you cannot protect anyone. Let alone yourself.” 

“You sure are power hungry, Verge. You idiot,” the two-colored-eyed woman softly smacked her friend on his cheek. “How about you teach me how to dance for the upcoming school dance?” she smirked suggestively. Vergil immediately denied it.

“No.”   
  


“Oh! Come on, I came out late to comfort you! Please? I don’t want to make a fool of myself, Vergil!” she whined. 

“You do that on a daily basis, Lady.” 

Lady’s expression morphed as she glared demandingly at her friend. Vergil stared back coolly. 

“Lady, staring at me is not going to get you your way,” he waved her off, but she grabbed his hand with surprisingly brute strength and pulled him closer to her so their bodies pressed against each other. Her chin touched right underneath Vergil’s collarbone, and her eyes hardened with determination. “What?” He choked out as his friend wrapped his arm around her narrow waist and interlocked their fingers together with her other hand. The silver-haired male sighed in defeat as Lady refused to let him go. She was terrifying when she had a plan in her mind, and she did not stop until she completed it. Women were so stubborn, that’s why Vergil prefered the company of men. He did not understand the emotional hormones they went through, and strongly feared them when their time of month came rolling around. He actually locked himself in his room when Lady got hers. That was a big NOPE. “Fine…” 

She smiled toothily up at him and laughed victoriously. The female teen smirked inwardly as she watched Vergil shift uncomfortably. Such a virgin. 

Vergil released Lady’s hand and stepped back. He humbly bowed at the waist and extended a hand to her. 

“May I have this dance, Lady?” Vergil asked charmingly. Lady froze for a moment at the gentleman side of Vergil. 

She smiled politely and placed her hand in Vergil’s. He smiled faintly before gently pulling Lady’s body closer to him. He placed his hand on her upper back and loosely held her smaller hand in his. She rested her free hand on Vergil’s chest. 

Vergil’s smile toned down to a gentle one, and Lady was completely breathless as Vergil moved her gracefully to the beat of a song of silence. She gasped quietly as he gracefully twirled her before bringing her close once more. She was relieved she did not feel dizzy when Vergil had spun her. The dark-haired female felt her cheeks heat up at the intense look her friend was giving her. It was imperative he made Lady how to dance properly, and he chuckled as she looked down at his chest out of embarrassment. Vergil adjusted his head to rested his lips near her ear. The demon hybrid flawlessly swayed them to the serenity of the night. “You’re not bad,” he whispered softly. 

“Aren’t you just the sweetest talker,” she responded sardonically. Vergil quietly chuckled as he led them in a smooth turn. He had expected his stubborn friend to respond in such a way. 

“I am merely stating the obvious,” he stated smoothly. She rolled her eyes. 

“Appreciated,” she replied with a hint of slight hostility. Once more, Vergil knew he was going to receive that kind of response. He moved away from her ear but continued to hold her close to his body. Her breasts pressed into the lower portions of his pectorals. 

“You’re the only woman besides my mother I admire. I praise your bravery and will. Sometimes you can be foolish, but it is never out on a weak limb,” he paused to let his words sink. Lady’s eyes flitted to her friend’s face to see if he truly meant what he just said. All she was greeted with was a soft smile and stern expression. She was in complete awe, and Vergil continued to lead them through the dance. 

“Are you dying?” she asked sarcastically and that made Vergil let out a pleased chuckle. She pointedly glared at her male friend. 

He leaned down to position his lips next to her ear again. “Perhaps,” he teased with a smirk. Her head whipped so fast in a way that caused her hair to smack him in the face. The blue-eyed teen took the hint and moved away from her ear. 

“Vergil, you’re flying,” Lady whispered in astonishment. Blue orbs blinked when she spoke. He craned his neck look down and took a long moment to register that he, indeed, was off the ground. “Wow…” she breathed. 

Vergil calmly floated in the air and moved his legs back and forth, disbelieving that he was no longer on the ground. He grabbed her hands, and the night breeze brushed against their two bodies. A pleased sound left Vergil’s mouth as he was above the ground and pulled his friend close so she was in the air with him. He positioned her body in his hold so she was being carried bridal style. 

“Let’s get you home, then,” Verge said as he floated with little to no difficulty. 

For the first time, Lady was speechless. She watched the scenery of their town from above, and it was breathtaking. The moon’s reflection on the calm waters sparkled, the flowers danced in the wind, and the stars smiled down at the pair. If someone were to look up at that given moment, they would’ve worn they just witnessed a magical animal of some sort. 

This flying will come in handy. 

***

The sound of boots crunching on dull aqua-colored leaves was the only sound the filled the peaceful night. All was peaceful as Baul made his way to his destination. A man with spiky silver hair and piercing emerald eyes stopped right in his tracks, as a shadow flew above him. He chuckled to himself in amusement he watched Vergil carry a woman in his arms through the sky. So he can fly now? A very rare thing to do for demons not in their devil trigger form. It took a lot of mental strain and concentration to pull that off. His eyes scanned over the area, all inhabitants were asleep peacefully in their beds with no care for the world at the moment. 

He grinned devilishly when he watched the direction his target was heading. The grin turned into a satisfied smirk. Glancing up at the full moon, he mentally counted the moments. 

Soon it will be time to put his plan to motion. It is almost time for him to get Sparda’s blood and overpower his master. 

With a whip of his long, white cape, Baul turned towards Vergil’s direction and disappeared into the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to add Dante and Sparda, but that will be the next chapter. This chapter was 12 pages! My longest one yet! I love Lady and Vergil's friendship. 
> 
> Thank you!


	8. Demon's Awakened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vergil awakens his powers during a fight. A may have triggered something else...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I am pleased with this chapter! Please enjoy!

From the aerial view, the evergreen tree tops danced fondly in the night’s tender breeze. The rustling of the leaves washed over his ears, and the moon stood by her own counsel in the dark skies. The night lights of Fortuna could steal the breath away from Vergil, as they blended all together in a vibrant waltz below him. The enchanting waters reflected the moon’s silver reflection; the waters rippled down the rocks and trickled down their ongoing path, as the moon’s pale light flickered within the water’s movements. The sweet aroma of Fortuna filled his nose and it was truly just a privilege to smell it. The roads below shone light silver stems in a frosty morning, and Vergil inhaled quietly to himself as he soared through the skies. 

The silver-haired demon moved to the left to not disturb the cumulus cloud in his path. The stars above him appeared to be like tiny , flickering pinpricks in the dark blanket of the sky above. They were even more breathtaking up close. It was the pure image of serenity if any artist wanted to know. This scenery could never be properly described in flowery language of literature or dialogue of simple conversation. No, this scenery could only be lived in. 

Vergil sighed as the familiar building of his home came into his view. He will have to come home and have an unpleasant talk with his father. Verge did not have the energy to deal with his father’s fierce anger or curt words. In fact…

He had no energy at all. Fatigue began to claw at the corners of his eyes, and Vergil felt his body inevitably become drained. His form staggered in the sky, and the blue-eyed teen gritted his teeth as his body was sinking lower and lower each second. His eyelids grew too heavy and the poor boy was struggling to keep them open. His limbs gradually began to tingle, and the limbs soon lost all ability of feeling. Inwardly, Vergil was growing to panic, but outwardly, his boy grew limp. Blue eyes closed, and a body began to descend out of the skies. His frame was falling down at an alarming rate, and if anyone were to look up at this moment, they would’ve easily confused Vergil’s body with a shooting star. 

The wind harshly gnawed at the sides of his body, large amounts of air were entering the young hybrid’s lungs. Vergil was unconscious as he fell defenselessly from above. Hi boy could not handle the power of flight that he obtained. His demonic concentration must’ve overtook his body’s capacity, and thus took all he had to give, throwing him into a pool of ungodly exhaustion. His heart rate tremendously slowed down deep in his aching chest. 

His heavy body crashed painfully through the solid concrete rooftop of an abandoned monastery. The loud noise boomed through the area. Piercing edges sliced through his blue jacket, cut through the softness of his cheeks, and extremities. Intense pain radiated throughout the entirety of his unconscious body. Stabbing pain shot up his spine at the painful collision, and Vergil fell onto the stoned floor of the sacred building. Blue fabric sprawled around his unconscious yet injured body. The ungraceful left a man-made sky light, allowing the moon’s silvery beams to zoom onto Vergil. Heavy wooden oak doors creaked soundly in protest at the sudden burst of winds. Moonlight broke heavily through the cracked, stained glass windows , casting an eerie glow onto the empty altar and Vergil’s face. Dust and cobwebs swept up into the air when Vergil landed onto the ground unpleasantly, making the air a challenge to inhale momentarily. Pews were monstrously covered in thick layers of dust yet they remained peacefully untouched in time. Gnarled trees hung low around the outskirts of the building and even some branches managed to break through the glass. Moss and nature proudly reclaimed the alabaster stone walls. A few silent moments passed by as the teen remained to be asleep, completely defenseless to the world around him. 

Sapphire hues weakly began to crack open with some difficulty, and Vergil's vision was as blurry as it would be the day he was born. He blinked rapidly to clear his vision. The first thing he noticed was the sharp, excruciating pain that nipped at every crevice of his aching body. He trembled as he attempted to sit up. His body violently protested at the sudden movement, but Vergil ignored his body’s cries, and barely managed to sit completely. His gaze was locked onto the high archway ceilings above him, plain white marble simply filled his vision. He groaned painfully to himself and scanned his arms for any cut or bruises after he rolled his coat sleeve up. Ugly, dark blotches marred his soft skin, and blood thickly trailed down both arms. He just now took notice of the blood stains seeping through his lovely blue jacket. 

He tentatively reached for his cheek but immediately retracted when warm liquid coated his fingertips. He winced and released a shaky breath. His face stung sharply, and the poor teen muttered a curse quietly to himself. 

Vergil mentally counted to ten before he abruptly sprang up and stood on his wobbling legs. Pain instantaneously stabbed at him, but he stubbornly remained rooted to where he now stood. Vergil’s sharp eyes absorbed the moon’s light, illuminating a crystalline azure hue. He glanced around as he soaked in his surroundings. 

“Where am I?” He inquired in a thoughtful tone as he gazed intently at the huge statue before him. His sight zoomed into the words that were gracefully etched into the stone. 

In cursive, neat calligraphy that was perfectly centered, it read:  **The Savior.**

Vergil, while ignoring the harsh tingling of his nerves and continuous throbbing of pain throughout his body, scoffed at the cliche name. 

He glanced up at the huge statue that towered over him. He felt like an ant before the tremendous creation, but he squashed that ludicrous emotion down. 

The Savior is a large, humanoid statue designed to resemble the Order of the Sword's idealized concept of Sparda. The Savior has feathery embellishments on its head, neck, shoulders, wrists, calves and midriff giving it an angelic appearance and its horns appear more regal and majestic than the insectoid antlers that Sparda possessed. Though it is a demon, it is looked upon by the citizens of Fortuna as a god and its exterior holds several azure jewels composed of a millennial's worth of demonic and spiritual essence melded together. 

“Strange but repulsive,” he grumbled and limped towards the large wooden doors. Vergil’s eyes squinted as he finally noticed that his blood was all circling around in the center of the altar. His eyes grew strained as he looked harder. The silver-haired teen scowled as he could not see the unseeable. His heart rate spiked up and blood rushed into his ears, his head pounded. The church’s floors gradually began to be picked apart, pieces of the stone were floating into the air only to vanish into the thin air. Something strange was happening… 

He inhaled deeply as the floor continued to break beneath him, every fiber of his body was screaming at him to run for his life, but something dark within clawed at his being, whispering of power and death. Kill. 

The moonlight darkly turned into a bloody color, and the abandoned monastery darkened. Only a lone orange light craned through the small area of the altar. Shadows animatedly danced and crouched on the walls behind Vergil, as if they were taunting him. His brilliant blue eyes glared coldly through the darkness that shrouded the sacred area. The temperature dropped tremendously and nipped at the exposed flesh of Verge. 

“ _ Sparda..” _ a hauntingly, wistful voice echoed through the eerie silence. A raspy breath filled the perpetually ominous atmosphere. Lanky, long limbs slowly began to crawl through the small puddle of Vergil’s blood on the floor, and with each movement, the limbs creaked an ear-splitting shrilling sound.  _ “Sparda…”  _ A white porcelain mask that was cracked and its eye holes were chipped in various places. The mask had bloody, smeared lipstick on its wide lips. The upper half of the masking as if it was torn off, uneven tear marks were acting like a crown on top. Black mist covered over the obsidian, decaying flesh of the demon. Its hind legs were higher than the monster’s sharp claws on its front legs. It stood on all fours reminiscent of a spider. Its face tilted as if eyeing Vergil. “ _ Sparda, is the light weeping on you?” _ it taunted. “ _ You will die here, traitor!”  _ Its voice shrieked and it climbed quickly onto the wall. The floor beneath Vergil still peeled away at a snail’s pace. The demon dropped onto the ground right directly in front of Vergil, who barely had time to roll over to dodge. He grunted as pain once more attacked his body, exhaustion from earlier was still dragging him down. He barely missed being attacked from the shock wave of the demon’s landing. Its long claws outstretched and tried to grab Verge, but he moved once more. The demon’s hand grabbed a nearby Pew and tossed it over its body to get it out of its way. It swung its long arms incessentialy as an endeavor to attack Vergil. It each swung luckily missed him by only a hair. A deep fury was bellowing in the pits of Vergil’s stomach. Adrenaline rushed through the complex of his nerves and caused a rush of energy through Vergil. 

It was unbeknownst to the teen that horns grew on the sides of his head. His eyes lit up with demonic rage, and all sounds simply just died off in his ear. Deafening silence was all he could hear over his thundering heartbeat. Vergil’s eyes darted around the dark room as he swiftly dodged an attack from above. The monstrous demon’s limbs creaked noisily as it let out a shrill cry. It threw another Pew and it crashed into the other long benches. Loud crashing noises echoed through the empty halls, but Vergil heard none of it. Slowly, a circle of blue blades appeared and rotated around Vergil protectively. It felt as though his body was moving on its own, and his hand raised. Vergil had no time to express surprise as Yamato materialized in his grasp. His fingers tightened around its hilt, and its yellow guard reflected the blood moon’s light. The demon cried out loudly as it attempted to grab Vergil with its long extended claws. Vergil’s swords easily slicked off its claws, and the demon cried out in pain. Its airy voice boomed throughout their battle field, but once more, no sound reached his ears. The masked demon's blood splattered over the holy walls, and some even on Vergil’s face. 

“You shall die,” Vergil growled out darkly, and easily sliced through the air. Cuts throughout different dimensions and areas all pierced through the spider-like demon. The swords circling around Vergil all turned towards the enemy and stabbed through its mask. The porcelain cracked before shattering completely. The demon’s decaying flesh released a pungent smell that assaulted the young demon’s nose, but he paid it no mind. Blood showered over him, and he merely brushed the blood through his hair to keep it swept back. “Foolish demon.” He tightened his hold onto Yamato as he watched the demon crumble to bits and sink into its own blood puddle. 

The shadows fled off the walls, and the moon shifted back to its original blue, silvery glow. The floor stopped peeling itself. The abandoned holy ground was completely trashed from his battle. Vergil panted heavily and attempted to collect himself. Blood poured from the skies only for a moment longer, but all was white noise to the teen. Remaining swords that protected him diminished in the air, but Yamato still remained in his grasp. His horns disappeared as quickly as they appeared, but Vergil simply stood there rooted to the ground. How did this all happen?

Every sense he had was sharpened intensely, everything was stronger. He could see through the darkness more clearly, he could hear even the faintest of sounds that normal humans could not. Vergil’s eyes landed onto Yamato that he tightly held onto. The beloved katana purred in his hand, vibrating with pure demonic energy that was his very own. 

“How?” He asked softly to himself. The adrenaline ran out of his body, and Vergil slumped forward. 

_ Because you being in danger woke up your true nature! _

His cerulean eyes widened as wide as saucers at the dark voice in his head. 

“What?” Verge gasped out brokenly. 

_ You’re a demon. Part of the Sparda bloodline! ALL that just happened was all YOU! You are me. If you think you are just a human, if you TRULY think, then I’m sad to say it isn’t simply so. _

The demonic voice rumbled mentally and purred.  _ This is not a dream. You awakened your true self!  _

Vergil only remained bent over in place as the demonic voice vanished. It was all… him? The reality daunted onto him, and he truly did not know how to react. He just killed his first demon, and his demonic side saved his ass. Shapeless emotions were overwhelming him. Vergil began to hyperventilate violently as his heart clenched painfully in his chest. His limbs trembled profusely and he had to swallow the rising bile in his throat. His throat burned painfully, and once more, he swallowed thickly. 

This was all too much for him. 

He scowled thoughtfully and glanced down at his arms. Earlier, he was bleeding and had bruises, but they were all now completely healed. If it wasn’t for Yamato in his hands and the blood soaked through his attire, he would have thought tonight was well…

Not real. 

Well, it was time to return home. Vergil shrugged his shoulders and pulled down his coat sleeves. The teen adjusted his shirt and took a cautious step forward. A sigh of relief past his soft lips when his body straightened itself out and the pain resided. 

He turned on his heel and exited out of the abandoned building. He clung securely to Yamato as the blade stayed to his side. It quietly purred in content in its owner’s grasp. The night was undisturbed. Its serenity was as perfect as it was before Vergil collapsed out of the sky. 

Vergil decided against flying since he just released so much unknown energy in the bloody battle for his life. He would be lying if he said it was not exhilarating. His body buzzed with radiant energy, a stark contrast to the overwhelming fatigue that consumed him earlier. 

The stoned sidewalks awakened underneath his boots, and his coat dangled around his ankles. Vergil sighed tiredly as he finally reached the front steps of his home. A blue butterfly landed peacefully on his shoulder, and Vergil allowed the harmless creature to use his shoulder as its resting place. Its vibrant blue wings blended perfectly with Vergil’s sapphire orbs and blue jacket. He raised his hand to open the door, but he hesitated. His hand hovered the door as he wordlessly contemplated to himself. If he entered his house now, Nero surely would still be on the couch, and the moment he entered, his father would awaken and give Vergil’s ass a new one. If Vergil was going to be perfectly honest with himself, he was not in the proper mindset to even face Nero or Kyrie. 

Tonight was fresh on his mind, and if he sees them, he probably would explode emotionally. A troubled sound bubbled in the back of his throat as he stepped away from his home. Vergil walked briskly down his steps and down the cobbled stone sidewalks. His steps quietly echoed in the night, and he was completely alone. The butterfly flapped its wings leisurely and flew off Vergil’s shoulder. The teen hybrid watched curiously as the blue butterfly flew away. The sight soothed his bewildered mind slightly, but the storm in his mind still tore him apart mentally. This was just too much to handle in the short span of time. 

He walked aimlessly through the quiet town of Fortuna alone. Yamato rested by his side as he casually strolled through a little park. He was deep in his own thoughts as he absentmindedly walked ahead. The scenery passed slowly in an unfocused blur, and he just quietly kept to himself. 

  
  


“SPARDA!” A dark voice shouted with bitter distaste somewhere behind the deeply troubled Vergil. Without a backward glance,Vergil unsheathed Yamato and swiftly swiped at the air with ease, and easily sheathed her once more. A deep guttural sound choked up behind him as the unforeseen demon was sliced up. Severed body parts dispersed in the chilly air, blood gushed uncontrollably. But Vergil remained unbothered in his spot as he kept thinking. 

“Aren’t you a deadly one?~” A very familiar, charming voice whispered into his ear. Vergil jolted a bit before turning to meet a grinning Dante. 

“Dante,” Verge called out plainly. His sapphire orbs regarded the other emotionlessly, but Dante seemed to be unfazed at all. 

“I just watched you kill him in one motion! You must be awakening your demonic powers,” he said with a smile. The red-wearing hunter hummed a tune to himself as he circled around his brother. “Does daddy dearest know his little baby is out past his bedtime?” he joked while pinching Vergil’s cheek comically. Dante wiped off the blood smear off his brother’s face. He took in Vergil’s deep scowl and snickered with mirth. “Ya know, if you keep your face like that, it will freeze.” Vergil rolled his eyes at the other’s teasing, but could not help to smirk despite his internal battle. 

“Don’t you got to be stupid somewhere else?” He griped. Dante shook his head with a goofy grin. But then he feigned thinking. 

“Not until four,” he laughed at his own idiotic joke. “But in all seriousness, Verge, why are you out and covered in blood? And I mean blood before you killed that demon just now.” 

Vergil’s frown deepened as his eyebrows knitted together. He searched for a reply he desired to give the other without sounding broken. He opened his mouth. 

“I fought a demon in the abandoned monastery not far from here. I… must’ve awakened my powers since Yamato appeared in my hands. The sounds around me at the time were all muted, and then, it was over…” He looked solemnly down at his gloved hand holding Yamato. “I got into an argument with my father, and then I talked to Lady. Then I flew her home.” he shrugged. 

Dante blinked owlishly. “You… flew? Did you use your devil trigger?” 

“My what?” Vergil scoffed. “No.” He shook his head. “I can levitate and fly though it is devastatingly draining.” 

Dante hummed as he rubbed his chin mindfully. “You...can fly? Mind showing me?” Vergil rolled his eyes once more and his face shifted a conceited grin. He focused all his energy to flight and his mind to calm. He felt his feet lift themselves off the ground, and he hovered in the air. He grinned, pleased with himself as he was now at equal height with Dante. Dante’s eyes widened in awe at the sight of the floating man before him. Their faces were mere inches apart, and Dante had never seen anything so breathtaking before. The moon illuminated Vergil’s features just right, as the eyes brilliantly glowed at night. Dante’s heart throbbed in his chest, but he gave Vergil a cocky grin. 

“Well, aren’t you a talented demon,” he commented in a teasing tone. “You know that is a rare skill to have? Not many demons can do that. I cannot nor can Sparda.” Vergil’s face slightly brightened at the new information. 

“Really?” he questioned. Dante nodded, and Vergil landed safely onto the ground. 

“So, you and your daddy argued huh?” Vergil choked on his own spit at Dante calling Nero “daddy.” 

“Do. Not. Ever. Call. Him.That. Ever. Again,” Vergil grounded out bitterly. “I’d rather not discuss these matters with you. Tell me why you are out here.”

Dante shrugged nonchalantly. “My father said someone came up here from Hell. He wants me to take care of that matter. But I’m not quite sure who or what it is until I see it. So I’m just getting rid of the weak demons and hanging out to pass time,” he explained. 

“Ah, well, I suppose we can spend some time together. I may need more training but-” 

“The answer is yes-” 

“-if you wanted to spar with me,” he finished a tired scowl. Dante practically was beaming at him, and Vergil shifted uncomfortably underneath the happy look Dante was sending him. In a flash, Dante and Vergil’s swords crossed. Dante looked across the edge of their clashed swords and smirked, as he pushed his strength onto Rebellion. It was quite amusing to watch Vergil struggle as Dante easily gained the upper hand. Of course, Vergil just awakened his powers so he was not on par with the overly experienced Dante. But it would not pain him to humor Vergil. Dante chuckled as he witnessed Vergil struggling, but Dante’s eyes widened in surprise as Vergil swept his feet from underneath him and swung Yamato at him. Dante flew back a little from Yamato colliding with the Rebellion. “You seemed surprised,” Vergil called out with a satisfied smirk. 

“You are a quick one, I’ll give you that. I’m gonna kick your ass.” 

Vergil smiled. “We’ll see about that.” Dante’s heart skipped a beat in his chest, but then a sudden whiff of Vergil’s sweet lavender and vanilla scent with sugared fruit called to him. The dominant demon paused in his motions, and allowed the smaller demon to tackle him to the ground. God, this close he could inhale Vergil’s intoxicating scent in gallons. His head swarmed with the delectable scent of Vergil that beckoned him closer. Dante gazed heatedly at the man on top of him with a clouded look glazing his blue eyes. He sharply noticed that Vergil paused and their eyes locked. He watched Vergil’s nostrils flare as he inhaled Dante’s strong earthy yet spicy scent. It was like how Earth smelt before rain and a dark spice of cinnamon, danger, and sandalwood. The demon inside Verge was purring in content at their close proximity. It wanted the submissive demon to get even closer, even more intimate. Dante’s hand reached up and his thumb stroked a gentle line over Vergil’s cheekbones. Their scents were mixing together. It was like the air before a lightning storm, it was like crunching leaves dancing around a cooling dessert, it was overwhelming and beautiful, and Dante could feel his blood rushing south. 

He had dreamed that he would get to meet Vergil. He dreamed that the smaller demon was by his side since he was a hyperactive kid. Vergil gulped thickly as his brain was a fervid mess and his body began to grow too hot. His skin was growing too sensitive at an alarming rate, but Dante’s body pressed against his smaller frame felt amazing. Cooling. Like rubbing vera aloe over sunburned flesh. Vergil’s barely aware that he’s purring as Dante slowly leans in closer. Their lips just mere centimeters away. He was so hot, and he felt something wet between his thighs. Vergil grouched inwardly at the uncomfortable slick feeling between his legs, but he slowly closed his eyes as he waited for the forthcoming kiss. It was wrong to feel so strongly towards his brother whom he just met, but the attraction was pulling strongly. 

From the looks of it, Dante seems to be out of it, too. Does Dante feel the physical pull he does? Like a magnet to a refrigerator…. 

Just a little more…

Both parties leaned in.

“HEY JACKASS! STAY AWAY FROM VERGIL!” Vergil immediately was snapped out of whatever trance he was in at the loud exclamation. A gunshot loudly rang through the night air, and Vergil heard Dante growl dangerously underneath him. 

The smaller demon reluctantly pulled himself away and turned to face his father. Nero’s hair was in a disarray, his face flushed, and his clothes were cramped and wrinkled. His father’s disheveled appearance worried Vergil, but his father spoke once more before he or Dante could explain. 

“We’re leaving, Vergil. NOW!” His voice left no room for argument. Vergil shakily stood on wobbling legs, and his demon mentally whined at the loss of Dante being close. Nero stomped over and forced himself between the two of them, and bared his sharp canines at the oddly quiet Dante. Dante stood and picked up Rebellion before planting it on his back. Nero placed his gun safely on his holster without taking his eyes off Dante. 

“I’ll see you later, Verge. See ya, dead weight,” he insulted Nero. “Ciao,” he waved at them before making his leave. Vergil could only blink in confusion before he felt Yamato be tugged out of his grasp. 

Deadweight? Nero mentally took note of the insult. It shifted the father into an even more sour mood. He is going to remember that next time he beats Dante's ass. He shook his head and turned to his son.

“I need to get you home before other demons smell your heat,” Nero grumbled before using Yamato to slice open a portal. “Hurry, we have a lot to discuss.” His eyes were darkened. “I see you’re okay. Thank goodness…” Nero sighed as he ushered his speechless and puzzled son into the portal. 

“You disobeyed me, now we got more troublesome consequences…” the father spoke sternly before exiting into the portal after his beloved son. 

Meanwhile, Baul watched the whole scene unfold from a tree afar. 

It won’t be much longer now… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nero is the ultimate cock blocker. RIP Dante and Vergil's shared time.  
> Sorry for any typos, I stayed up till 8 am to finish this for you all! 
> 
> Ooooof. See ya'll next time! Thanks for reading! :3

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you all think! I may have mistyped a few things but I tried! 
> 
> Thank you for reading! :3
> 
> KEEP VERGIL PURE, NERO!


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